Fate
by Suzi.R
Summary: International Rescue - world wide heroes. But when one of their own is in trouble, no rescue equipment in the world can save his life... TWO NEW CHAPTERS & EPILOGUE UP! COMPLETE! PLZ R&R!
1. Chapter 1 Tragic Rescue

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters portrayed here, (excluding the survivors of the rescue) they belong to Gerry Anderson and Carlton Television.  
  
Author's Note: This is my first attempt at an actual Thunderbirds story. I hope you enjoy it, and – I'm begging here – please r&r!!! I need reviews, praise and criticisms alike. (Please be gentle though. ()  
  
Fate  
  
By Suzi Roberts  
  
The black sky erupted into pouring rain, accompanied by heavy thunder rolling violently in the heavens. Despite the bitterly cold air, the sweat poured from Virgil Tracy's forehead. Not from his labour – from his concentration. For nearly two hours he'd been trying, using The Mole, to dig an area through the debris large enough for Scott and his rescue gear to get through.  
  
That particular morning, a massive earthquake had hit that highly populated part of Chicago. A fair-sized office block had collapsed to nothing, burying hundreds alive in the rubble. It was inevitable that many were dead – yet there was hope that many would also have survived.  
  
Virgil raised a hand and wiped the perspiration from his brow.  
  
"Mobile Control, this is The Mole. Come in Scott."  
  
"What's the situation, Virgil?"  
  
"We're through. The area's as wide as I can manage."  
  
"Nice work, Virgil," Scott replied. "Right. Let's get down there and see what we can do."  
  
"Right, S-Scott," Virgil replied, surprising himself by the slur in his voice.  
  
"You haven't been on the bottle in there, have you Virg?" Scott joked.  
  
Virgil laughed back falsely as he closed the link. No, he hadn't been "on the bottle" as Scott put it, but he sure felt like he had! His head was spinning round and round. Concentration, he thought to himself. He massaged the temples of his forehead to slow the spinning and made his way out of The Mole.  
  
It was a grim experience. Scott shone his torch into the mess of debris. Just by looking around, he could tell the vast majority of them were dead. Scott's beam fell on a woman, blood covering her pretty face and golden tresses, her green eyes fixed in a rigid stare. A mask of the horror she'd witnessed was still clearly written all over her face.  
  
"Bloody hell," Scott breathed.  
  
"Better start searching." Virgil answered quietly, still not feeling quite with it.  
  
The two brothers set off in opposite directions, tripping on fallen bricks, over...bodies. They called out again and again and again, willing there to be a survivor – just one.  
  
Anyone.  
  
"Can anybody hear me?" Scott asked, beginning to give up hope. A sudden stir from the far end of the area put Scott back on full alert. He began making his way over in the direction of the sound, as Virgil kept looking and calling.  
  
As Scott got closer, he heard it.  
  
"W-who's there?" came the faint, weak voice of a child. His dark blue eyes lit up at the sight of Scott, and even more at his International Rescue uniform.  
  
"Don't worry, fella, we'll soon have you out of here." Scott breathed a sigh of relief, his burden lightened a little by the surviving child.  
  
"Here's another one!" Virgil's cry rang through the darkness.  
  
"OK, Virg, see if you can get him talking!"  
  
The time dragged on and on, and all the while more survivors were discovered. Unconscious, awake or somewhere between, they were all found.  
  
Finding so many alive after expecting nothing, made Scott and Virgil's hearts a little lighter. At the first count, there'd already been thirty five people dead. As more survivors were found, more bodies were counted. When everyone alive had been rescued (Alan, using hoists from Thunderbird Two, had retrieved the survivors), the final count of the dead was fifty two people.  
  
The sixty who had survived had only International Rescue to thank for their lives.  
  
Scott and Virgil stood watching as Emergency Services brought the bodies out, one by one. Both brothers were silent for a moment.  
  
"It's times like this when I wish I hadn't taken on this job." Scott said, breaking the uneasy silence.  
  
"It's inevitable, Scott," Virgil replied. "While I agree, it IS disheartening, watching something like this, but we're going to fail sometimes." Virgil watched is brother. He knew "failure" was not a word in Scott's vocabulary, and he also knew that Scott hated it.  
  
"S'pose we'd better radio base." Scott said, trying to sound normal. He turned on his transmitter.  
  
"Scott to International Rescue base. Come in."  
  
"Go ahead Scott, how's everything going?" The more mature voice of Jeff Tracy, founder of International Rescue and billionaire, answered.  
  
Scott explained the situation and sighed.  
  
"...but fifty two are dead."  
  
"Less than I expected," came Jeff's reply. "OK, boys. Everyone back to base. Over and out."  
  
Scott and Virgil each boarded their own craft.  
  
Virgil woozily climbed into the cockpit, rubbing his forehead again.  
  
"You alright, Virg?" Alan's voice came from behind.  
  
"Yeah. Yeah, fine Alan." Virgil replied, although his body was drenched in sweat again. Concentrating hard, Virgil controlled his craft into the air, and set off for home.  
  
For the first time, Virgil did not enjoy flying the huge Thunderbird, his pride and joy, home again. His head thumped, his body ached, and there was nothing more he wanted to do than collapse onto the nearest bed. 


	2. Chapter 2 Suspicion

Disclaimer: I do not own Thunderbirds, it's characters, blah de blah...  
  
Note: WOW! Thank you all so much for your reviews!!! Thank you for your encouragement!  
  
Claudette – I'd just like to say I'm sorry. I don't know WHY I chose Virgil, he's my very fave Tracy son!  
  
Everyone else – thank you so much!!!!!!!! I am eternally grateful!!! Any way enough of the drabble....  
  
On with the story!!!  
  
Fate  
  
Chapter 2 – Suspicion  
  
Josephine Tracy watched her second eldest grandson, concerned, as he sat at the dinner table.  
  
She observed as he tried, for the third time, to successfully take a drink of water without spilling it down his sweater. His hands shook, as if with cold, and his eyes had a distant, glazed kind of look about them.  
  
Finally admitting defeat, Virgil put down the glass and tried to focus on what his father was saying.  
  
It was mostly idol chat, really. Virgil heard as Jeff tried to reassure Scott about the number that had died in that day's rescue.  
  
"...can't always make it, Scott...going to fail at times...did your very best..."  
  
Virgil caught bits of it – yet it seemed so far away. His father's voice and Scott's, and the noise of his two younger brothers seemed to blend together to become one noisy mess in his head. He massaged his forehead for about the hundredth time that day, and tried to focus on reality. The voices were still muddled together – he could no longer distinguish Scott's voice from Jeff's.  
  
Then he blacked out.  
  
The bang as Virgil fell from his chair raised the family from their places. Jeff knelt on the floor and gave his son's arm a shake.  
  
"Virgil? Son?"  
  
And although Virgil's eyes snapped open at the sound of his father's voice, they had rolled right back in his head, so only the whites of his eyes were visible.  
  
"Oh my God," Josie whispered, bending over her grandson.  
  
"Tin-Tin. Prepare the sick – room immediately," Jeff instructed.  
  
"Yes, Mr Tracy."  
  
"Scott. Go and get a stretcher."  
  
Jeff tried to hold his son still as he convulsed on the floor.  
  
"Come on, Virgil," Jeff quietly willed him.  
  
"NO!" Virgil struggled and tried to writhe out of his father's grasp, talking nonsense, his words mixed up and slurred, lashing out violently. Jeff restrained his son until Scott returned a few moments later.  
  
****  
  
Virgil blinked awake at the sound of the clock. It bleeped seven times. Seven o'clock. Morning or evening? He didn't know.  
  
Why couldn't he see? Blinking again, he tried to focus through the fog over his eyes. Feeling the bed beneath him, he wondered if he had got there by himself or had been carried. The last thing he remembered was sitting at the dinner table.  
  
His head still ached, but overall, he felt a lot better than when he had returned from the rescue. The mist in his eyes began to clear and he focused on eight pairs of worried eyes staring down at him.  
  
"W-what happened?" he asked, the stutter in his voice merely from exhaustion.  
  
"We don't know, son," Jeff replied. "I've sent for a doctor. He would be here already but there was another emergency he had to deal with."  
  
"Is it morning or evening?"  
  
"Morning. We haven't been able to wake you for the past twelve hours."  
  
Virgil, unhappy at the prospect of seeing a doctor, glanced at his surroundings; it was now clear to him that he was in the sickroom. Worriedly, he swivelled his gaze back to his father.  
  
"How did I get here?" He asked, his voice quiet.  
  
"You passed out over dinner, Virgil. Scott and Gordon got you here. Though we must admit it was a bit of a battle."  
  
There was a moment's silence.  
  
"Can I get up?" Virgil asked.  
  
"NO!" everyone said in unison, bringing on a healthy round of laughter.  
  
"Just try and get some rest, Virgil," Jeff smiled. "We'll wake you when the doctor arrives."  
  
After glancing around the room, each person there returning his look with a warm smile, Virgil closed his eyes. Everyone except Jeff filed out, who stayed until he heard Virgil's breathing become even and his chest rose and fell gently. Knowing he was asleep now, Jeff quietly left the room, closing the door behind him.  
  
"Brains?" Jeff quickened his pace to catch up, before the young man disappeared back to his lab.  
  
"Mr Tracy?"  
  
"Do you have any idea as to what is wrong with Virgil?"  
  
"W-well, it looks to m-me as if he had a seizure, d-due perhaps t-to some underlying illness. I-it could be anything from epilepsy t-to d-diabetes."  
  
"Diabetes?"  
  
"Y-yes. Seizures and sudden f-fits like that often occur in d-diabetics."  
  
Diabetic? Jeff thought. He wondered how International Rescue could rely on a member who could suddenly take a turn like that.  
  
Suddenly guilty, he pushed the thought out of his mind. International Rescue didn't matter right now – his family came first.  
  
***  
  
"Virg!" Scott's voice broke into Virgil's dreamless sleep. Virgil awoke to see the face of his brother grinning down at him.  
  
"Wakey wakey. How're you feeling?"  
  
Virgil sat up and thought about it for a second.  
  
"Alright," he replied. "Better than before anyway. Why are you here?"  
  
"Oh, that's nice!" Scott replied jokily. "I know when I'm not wanted! Grandma insisted I bring you a slice of the cake she baked yesterday. You missed it last night with all your antics,"  
  
As Virgil ate the cake, Scott assessed how he looked.  
  
Better, he thought, more normal.  
  
The cake was soon devoured, and the two brothers chatted for a while. Scott knew Virgil hated being in confined space; much like himself, really. Virgil always wanted to be up and about.  
  
"The doctor should be here soon," Scott said, looking at his watch. "Yeah. In about twenty minutes."  
  
Virgil didn't reply. He felt...all washed out again.  
  
"Virg? You OK?" A look of concern spread across Scott's face.  
  
Virgil smiled.  
  
"Yeah, fine Scott," he replied.  
  
****  
  
"Jeff! It's a pleasure to see you," Dr Krauss smiled, "I just wish it was more of a social event rather than a serious one. Now, where is this son of yours?"  
  
Jeff, returning the handshake, led the doctor to where Virgil was.  
  
"How is he, Scott?" Jeff asked his eldest, resting one arm across the back of Scott's chair.  
  
Scott looked worried. "He seems to be going downhill again, Dad. He was fine earlier."  
  
Dr Krauss smiled at the usually lively second Tracy son.  
  
"What kind of symptoms have you had, Virgil?"  
  
Virgil didn't answer for a moment. He had never been very confident around doctors; he often needed prompting before he spoke up.  
  
"Any headaches at all?"  
  
Virgil nodded.  
  
"Have you felt dizzy? Dry-mouthed at all?"  
  
Another nod.  
  
Giving up on vocal evidence, Dr Krauss began his examination.  
  
His cheery expression became more and more serious as he came to a conclusion. He turned to Virgil's father.  
  
"Jeff. I think you ought to sit down while I explain."  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------  
  
End Note: Chapter Two is done! I'm afraid you'll all have to wait until Chapter 3 – Diagnosis....? is uploaded to find out what's definitely up with Virgil!  
  
Hope this chapter does my first justice! Chapter 3 will be here as soon as I can manage, but it will be quite a bit longer as there's a lot of detail to fill in.  
  
All of Virgil's symptoms are researched. 


	3. Chapter 3 Diagnosis? Part One

Disclaimer: Thunderbirds are not mine; they belong to Gerry Anderson & Co.  
  
Author's Note: Thanks for your reviews!!! Praise, comments and criticisms alike. My tale continues...  
  
Bit of a long chappie this time!  
  
Fate By Suzi Roberts  
  
Chapter Three - Diagnosis...? Part One  
  
Jeff sat down uneasily on the chair.  
  
Dr Krauss closed Virgil's file and turned solemnly to his friend.  
  
"It appears to me," the doctor began gently, "That Virgil has suffered a hypoglycaemic attack, when the levels of glucose in the blood are too low. It's a common side-effect of diabetes,"  
  
Jeff closed his eyes.  
  
"We'll need to admit Virgil to hospital for a few days so that we can run some tests on him."  
  
"Tests?" Jeff asked.  
  
"Yes Jeff. To define whether Virgil is insulin-dependent or not."  
  
Jeff looked worriedly over at his son, who had fallen asleep somewhere in the conversation.  
  
"Doctor..." Jeff turned to his friend. "May we continue this discussion outside?"  
  
"Of course." They left, leaving Scott watching his brother sleep, concern written all over his face.  
  
Closing the door silently, Jeff turned to the doctor.  
  
"Is it life-threatening?" Jeff asked, so quietly that Dr Krauss could have pretended not to hear. He looked Jeff in the eyes and took a deep breath.  
  
"Potentially, Jeff, yes," the doctor paused before continuing. Being an emotional man himself, he hated having to be the one to deliver such news to a friend – particularly such a good friend.  
  
"If it is Type 1 diabetes – which I suspect, as Virgil is rather young to contract Type 2, although cases HAVE been known – then I'm afraid it can be life-threatening. The risk of stroke is three times more likely –"  
  
Dr Krauss cut off at the pain he saw etched on Jeff's mature features. Composing himself, he resumed from where he had left off.  
  
"And also the risk of kidney failure and blindness is high if the disease is left untreated. If the opposite of what happened to Virgil today occurs – a HYPERGLYCAEMIC attack – when the glucose levels are too HIGH from lack of insulin – unless Virgil can be treated in hospital, he may fall into a coma."  
  
The doctor did not feel inclined to add "and he may die" to the sentence – the look on Jeff's face as he mentioned the word coma was enough.  
  
A few moments of uncomfortable silence passed between the two men.  
  
Finally, Jeff brought his gaze back to the doctor's face.  
  
"So we need to take him to hospital immediately?"  
  
"I would prefer it if Emergency Services were called to transport him there."  
  
"It's that serious?"  
  
"At the moment I'm just taking precautions Jeff. But I still think this should be treated as an emergency." Dr Krauss reached into his pocket for his cell phone. "I'll contact the Emergency Services straight away."  
  
The two men made their way to the lounge in silence. Jeff offered Dr Krauss a seat, glad he had engaged Operation Cover-Up before the doctor arrived. International Rescue was the furthest thing from his mind at that moment, but Jeff felt he couldn't jeopardise their secret; especially not now.  
  
As Dr Krauss alerted Emergency Services, Jeff wondered how he could explain Virgil's illness to his brothers AND reassure them at the same time. The only hope they had for Virgil was that his disease had been caught early, and, with treatment, he could live a near-normal life. From what Jeff knew about diabetes, he understood that diet and lifestyle could affect Virgil's symptoms. A thought suddenly occurred to him.  
  
"Dr Krauss?" Jeff turned to his friend, who had just disconnected the call he had made.  
  
"They'll be here in an hour, Jeff."  
  
"Right, thanks. The attack Virgil had yesterday..."  
  
"The hypoglycaemic attack?"  
  
"That's the one. Can it be caused by stress, at all?"  
  
"Stress plays a big part in it, Jeff. Diabetics under high-stress have more attacks than others."  
  
Jeff sat down heavily on the chair next to his friend.  
  
Stress played a big part in diabetes.  
  
Had Virgil been under stress?  
  
Yes, he most certainly had.  
  
When?  
  
At the rescue scene.  
  
So is it my fault? Jeff thought to himself. This condition? Have I caused it? Have I pushed him too hard with International Rescue?  
  
Dr Krauss looked at his friend with obvious concern.  
  
"Jeff? Are you OK?"  
  
"I'm sorry, doctor. I was thinking that's all."  
  
"Look, Jeff," Dr Krauss turned to him. "I realize that this is very worrying for you. However, Virgil's condition CAN be controlled. With daily doses of insulin, and a carefully managed diet, he can live a normal life."  
  
"I understand that, doctor," was Jeff's reply, "But I can't help blaming myself for this."  
  
"All good parents blame themselves, Jeff. But it's not your fault, I assure you. It's just one of those things."  
  
Jeff looked at his friend. He was trying to be reassuring.  
  
It wasn't working.  
  
More silence between the two friends.  
  
Kyrano came out of the kitchen.  
  
"Mr Tracy? Would you and the doctor like some coffee?"  
  
"Yes, thank you, Kyrano."  
  
As Kyrano headed back the way he came, Jeff rose from his seat.  
  
"I need to tell the boys," Jeff said, "Can you let me know when Emergency Services arrive, Doctor?"  
  
"Yes, of course, Jeff."  
  
Dr Krauss looked on as his friend returned to the sick room, thinking how he would hate to be in Jeff's shoes at that moment. The doctor had no children of his own; yet he could easily identify with how Jeff must be feeling at this time. He had known Jeff for years – going back to before his wife died, and although Jeff was not often emotionally open, Dr Krauss knew the depth of his love for his sons.  
  
Jeff rested his hand momentarily on the automatic door release, wondering how to tell his sons what was wrong with their brother without worrying them. After arriving at the conclusion that this was simply not possible, he pushed the button and the door slid open with a quiet hiss.  
  
Scott, who had been alone in his earlier vigil, was now joined by Gordon, Alan and Tin-Tin. They sat watching Virgil sleep. No-one spoke; yet the atmosphere was not uncomfortable; it was peaceful.  
  
The quiet hiss of the door caught their attention, and four pairs of eyes came to focus on Jeff.  
  
He cleared his throat.  
  
"There is something I need to tell you all..." he looked over at the sleeping Virgil, "...outside."  
  
The clan of four silently left their seats and filed into the hall, no-one speaking until the door was firmly closed.  
  
Jeff fleetingly thought about what he would say; then decided he would explain it straight – but as gently as possible.  
  
He took a deep breath.  
  
"Tin-Tin. Boys." He paused again. "I'm afraid Virgil is seriously ill. Dr Krauss suspects he is an insulin-dependant diabetic. Emergency Services have had to be called so Virgil can be taken to a hospital for treatment."  
  
"Emergency Services?" Alan gasped.  
  
"It's a serious complication, Alan. With treatment, he'll be fine. But we CANNOT leave this unattended."  
  
Everyone suddenly understood what Jeff meant. If this disease was not treated fast and kept under control, they could lose Virgil.  
  
Tin-Tin began to cry.  
  
Her sobs were the only sound for some time.  
  
Scott tried to hold up well, comforting Tin-Tin and trying to reassure her, but it was clear to Jeff that his eldest had taken the news very badly but would never admit to it.  
  
Who wouldn't take news like this badly?  
  
Gordon and Alan looked lost.  
  
Virgil was their big brother. They couldn't lose him.  
  
"Who's going to tell Virgil?" Gordon asked suddenly, breaking the silence.  
  
"Tell me what?"  
  
Virgil was standing shakily at the door of the sick room, his eyes looking questioningly at his father and brothers.  
  
___________________________________________________________________  
  
Author's Note: Chapter 4 – Diagnosis...? Part Two coming very soon, I promise! Don't forget to drop me a review! 


	4. Chapter 4 Diagnosis? Part Two

Disclaimer: Thunderbirds are not mine nor are the Tracy family (sadly); they belong to Gerry Anderson & Co, as does the episode referred to (Terror in New York City).  
  
Author's Note: I would like to thank everyone for their encouragement, praise, etc. I am so grateful!!!!!!  
  
And just a little note to Quick Cheetah – thank you for your views on my story. My mum is a diabetic - she inspired me to write this story – and she also is like your childhood friend. Taking that on board, I have therefore mentioned in this chapter that not all diabetics suffer like poor Virgil! That's just me, because I'm mean!  
  
On with the story!  
  
Fate By Suzi Roberts  
  
Chapter 4 – Diagnosis – Part Two.  
  
Virgil looked from his father to Scott, Scott to Gordon, Gordon to Tin-Tin, and Tin-Tin to Alan.  
  
"Tell me what?" He repeated.  
  
"Err... Virgil..." Jeff looked down toward the floor. "Dr Krauss has called Emergency Services. You need to be taken to the mainland for tests and treatment."  
  
"Well, hasn't the doctor found out what's wrong?"  
  
"He thinks you might be diabetic, Virgil. But without tests we can't be sure of it."  
  
"Oh." That was all Virgil said. Jeff couldn't bring himself to tell Virgil the rest of the diagnosis. Not now. Besides, Virgil would be fine.  
  
Wouldn't he?  
  
*****  
  
The buzz of the Emergency Helijet roared over the island as it touched down on the runway, blowing the beautiful palm trees violently to one side.  
  
Jeff was the first to leave the villa; Virgil's suitcase in hand. Virgil, who was walking shakily, aided by Scott, closely followed him, looking very unhappy at the prospect of a trip to hospital.  
  
He hated to being examined by a doctor.  
  
He hated hospitals.  
  
Could this day get any worse? He wondered to himself, as Scott guided him up the steps and into the huge craft that would take him to his destiny.  
  
Virgil sat down miserably in one of the passenger seats.  
  
"Hey, bro, come on. It's not THAT bad," said Scott, trying to be reassuring, though knowing all the while Virgil hated hospitals as much as he did, if not MORE.  
  
"Yes it is, Scott. Who's going to look after base? Dad and you will be with me. There's only Gordon, Alan and Tin-Tin at home."  
  
Scott looked at his feet.  
  
"I'm sorry, Virg. Dad's insisted I stay here and operate the base. Alan can fly Thunderbird 1, and Gordon HAS been taught to fly Thunderbird 2..."  
  
Virgil rolled his eyes in despair at the thought of his beautiful machine being handled by his kid brother.  
  
"...and he can take Brains with him. Don't worry, Virg! You won't be away for long!"  
  
Giving his younger brother's shoulder a firm squeeze, Scott turned back down the steps the way he had come.  
  
"Oh, Scott," Jeff said as his eldest son left the jet. "I'm sorry to leave this in your hands, but could you break the news to Kyrano, John and your grandmother?"  
  
Scott nodded.  
  
Jeff wished he had had time to tell them himself; but Virgil needed him now.  
  
The engines roared and they took off.  
  
*******  
  
Jeff stared at the clock on the wall of the waiting room. Two hours could go by so slowly when you were waiting for something.  
  
Especially something like this.  
  
They had arrived at the hospital less than an hour after take off. Virgil, despite his protests that he was perfectly capable of walking now, was taken in by wheelchair and seen to immediately. Jeff had just gotten the chance to wish his son luck as he was taken away. He'd been waiting here ever since.  
  
Each time a nurse or doctor walked in to the room Jeff practically shot out of his seat.  
  
Each one had come to take in somebody else.  
  
Jeff waited.  
  
The room had been empty a while now; a rare sight. All that time alone had got Jeff thinking.  
  
What would happen if Virgil did have a stroke?  
  
Or if he went blind?  
  
How would he cope?  
  
Virgil was active, lively, and HATED being bedridden. Even before, after Thunderbird Two had been shot down by the US Sentinel, and Virgil had been injured, he'd hated staying in bed all the time, doing nothing but watch TV.  
  
Virgil also loved his job at International Rescue and it would break his heart if he were incapable of flying Thunderbird Two.  
  
Jeff waited.  
  
Doctors came and went.  
  
Jeff shook his head. Surely, all these tests were only precautions. Just to check everything was OK. Jeff had known many diabetic people in his time; none of the ones he'd known had suffered all this. True, they had been told to be careful, and there were risks, but other than that, they'd lived perfectly healthy lives.  
  
Jeff waited.  
  
He didn't want to wait any longer. He just wanted to know why a few blood tests and so on were taking such a long time to be carried out.  
  
He began to pace the floor.  
  
The door of the waiting room opened and a middle-aged man walked in.  
  
"Mr Tracy?"  
  
Jeff looked up from the floor, never so glad to hear the sound of his own name.  
  
The doctor smiled.  
  
"I'm Dr Jackson. If you'd like to come to my office, I'd like us to discuss the condition of your son."  
  
Jeff followed him nervously, not at all expecting the news that waited for him round the next corner.  
  
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End Note: Dedicated to my mum (the inspiration) as she is in hospital. Sorry to leave you on edge! Chapter 5 coming soon, I promise, and please review! (I'm not nagging...am I?) 


	5. Chapter 5 The Final Diagnosis

Disclaimer: I do not own Thunderbirds or it's characters. Sadly.  
  
Author's Note: Thank you all for your reviews, I am eternally grateful...I said it wouldn't be long! More shocks are in store for the Tracys...Hope this chapter doesn't shock my readers (too badly!)...All symptoms are researched for an accurate account of Virgil's condition. Don't forget to review....  
  
Right. Enough drabble. Onward!  
  
Fate By Suzi Roberts  
  
Chapter 5 – The Final Diagnosis  
  
Scott walked into the lounge with a large whisky in his right hand.  
  
It hadn't been as bad as he'd expected. John and Kyrano were both extremely worried for Virgil, yet they had held up well and remained positive that Virgil would OK.  
  
Scott had needed to psyche himself up to tell his grandmother.  
  
She'd been in the kitchen, supposedly making supper for the family members remaining on the island.  
  
Scott had noted the evidence of her concern for Virgil; she was stirring an empty saucepan without the gas on, gazing into space.  
  
"Grandma?" Scott had said quietly, nearly making the older woman jump out of her skin.  
  
"Yes dear?" Josie had said, trying to make her strained voice sound normal.  
  
Scott had taken the still-clean wooden spoon out of her hand and laid it on the table, taking her hand in his own as he did so.  
  
"Grandma. Virgil has been told he has a disease that could disable him. The Emergency Services took him to the mainland for tests."  
  
"I know that, Scott," his grandmother had replied. "I may be old but I'm not quite deaf yet."  
  
Scott had smiled a little. Josie always tried to keep strong and have a sense of humour, no matter what the situation.  
  
"What disease?" She had suddenly asked.  
  
"Eh?"  
  
"What disease has Virgil got?"  
  
"Diabetes."  
  
Josie had relaxed a little.  
  
"So this is all precautionary, then? All the tests your brother is having."  
  
"We hope so, Grandma."  
  
"Hope so? There are thousands of people out there with this disease, Scott. I've known a few myself. If they could control it when I was a girl, they can sure control it now,"  
  
"But..."  
  
"No buts, young man. I know about the risks. I said I wasn't deaf. I'm not naïve either!" she had smiled.  
  
Scott had left the kitchen, feeling perhaps a little more positive than before.  
  
Scott smiled at the recent memory. His grandma had a way with him like that. As he drank the whisky, he thought about what she'd said.  
  
Surely she was right. Yes, Virgil would fine in no time.  
  
******  
  
Jeff walked into Dr Jackson's office, feeling more nervous than he had done in a long time.  
  
"Would you like a drink, Mr Tracy?" The doctor asked, gesturing towards the various alcoholic beverages locked in a nearby cupboard. "We don't usually give alcohol to our patients' guardians, but in your case we'll make an exception."  
  
Jeff declined, put on edge all the more by this offer. A drink? In his case they'd make an exception? To Jeff, none of these were good signs.  
  
The doctor sat on his chair and glanced over Virgil's file before speaking.  
  
"Mr Tracy. We have run all the necessary tests on Virgil. He is indeed diabetic," Dr Jackson paused, "and will, I'm afraid, need daily doses of insulin for the rest of his life."  
  
Jeff had already expected that part of the answer.  
  
"But he won't need to come here for them everyday?"  
  
"Oh no, Mr Tracy. He can administer them himself once he has been taught how to do so."  
  
For the first time in twenty-four hours, a smile spread across Jeff's mature but handsome features.  
  
"So where is Virgil now?" Jeff asked, relieved.  
  
There was a slight pause.  
  
"On a dialysis machine, Mr Tracy."  
  
Jeff's heart clamped.  
  
"Your son's diabetes has obviously been under the surface for some time now. It can happen. Something, for example stress, can trigger the disease and bring out the symptoms. But whilst it's not visible, it can be doing unsuspected damage to the patients' body."  
  
The doctor looked over the notes again.  
  
"In your son's case, Mr Tracy, I'm afraid the kidneys have failed."  
  
Jeff had never felt such a mixture of emotions. Worry, shock, anger and mild panic all blended into one did not make a good mood.  
  
Trying not to look at Jeff's face, Dr Jackson continued.  
  
"The dialysis machine can be used for a lifetime. An hour every day but one should be enough to maintain Virgil's health. An external connection is made surgically between an artery and a vein in Virgil's arm. This is simple enough to perform, but it causes discomfort and isn't practical for the patient. A kidney transplant, on the other hand, would be Virgil's best shot."  
  
Jeff breathed in deeply.  
  
"So until the transplant Virgil would need to come here every day for dialysis?"  
  
"Until a suitable match is found. The list for a donor is long. He could be waiting for years."  
  
Jeff looked at his lap.  
  
Dr Jackson checked the file again.  
  
"Unless," he said slowly, "One of his four siblings could help."  
  
Jeff's gaze quickly averted to meet the doctor's.  
  
"Each of his brothers could be tested to see of their kidneys are a match," the doctor continued. "If they are, and his brother consented to the operation, then we could have this problem fixed within the next two months."  
  
Jeff, trying to calmly absorb this new information, finally found his voice.  
  
"What if none of his brothers ARE a match?"  
  
"Either yourself or a friend can also volunteer to be tested. If all fails, then we would have to place Virgil on a waiting list."  
  
"Does Virgil know?"  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"About the kidney problem."  
  
"Yes, Mr Tracy, he does."  
  
Dr Jackson closed his file.  
  
"I understand that you will need to discuss this matter with your family, Mr Tracy," he said, glancing at his watch. "Virgil should be off the machine by now. If you'd like to come with me, you can see him."  
  
******  
  
The eyes of John's portrait, hanging to the far left of the Tracy lounge, bleeped and flashed simultaneously.  
  
Scott walked quickly over to his father's desk and flicked a button, so that John's portrait turned into a live video picture.  
  
"Go ahead John. What's up?"  
  
"We're needed again, Scott. Sydney, Australia. The weather there has been so dry lately, bush fires have broken out everywhere. The Emergency Services are dealing with the majority of the fires, but there's a family of five trapped in their own home. The fire that's taken hold around the outskirts of their house means only our fire-fighting equipment could save them."  
  
"Right. Thanks John." Scott closed the link and turned to the others, who had gradually come to join him in the lounge during his conversation with John.  
  
"OK. Alan, get Thunderbird One to the danger zone."  
  
"Yes, Sir!"  
  
"Gordon, I want you to take Thunderbird Two. Take Brains with you. You'll need Pod Three." *  
  
"Yes Sir!"  
  
Scott walked to balcony, and watched Thunderbird Two launch, wishing that Virgil could be doing it instead of lying in some hospital bed.  
  
*****  
  
Jeff walked into the room where his son lay, half asleep. Even from where he stood, Jeff could see Virgil's forearm had turned the purple-blue colour of pre-bruising.  
  
Virgil's eyes opened a little more as his father came into focus.  
  
"Hi, Dad," he smiled weakly. "Where've you been all this time?"  
  
Jeff tried to smile back. His son's bravery nearly put tears in his eyes.  
  
It must be so hard for him, he thought. An active, lively young man with his whole life ahead. He doesn't need this. The diabetes could have be handled. But the transplant...  
  
"Dad?" Virgil asked, reaching out a hand. For the first time since Virgil's childhood, his father took that hand and held it in his own.  
  
"Yes, son?"  
  
"How will International Rescue function properly if I'm out of action for weeks?"  
  
Jeff bit his lip. Even now, Virgil was still thinking of others, his job.  
  
"We'll manage, Virgil. Lets concentrate on getting you better, eh? Before you know you'll be back piloting Thunderbird Two."  
  
Virgil's gaze had drifted towards the window, where he was staring at the built-u view of the city. He closed his eyes with a sigh. Jeff wasn't quite sure what to do when he saw a single tear slide down Virgil's cheek.  
  
Jeff said nothing. He simply squeezed Virgil's hand a little harder. Virgil didn't respond.  
  
His head was filled with questions, but one in particular stood out.  
  
"What if I die?"  
  
_________________________________________________________  
  
*Not sure if this is the correct Pod for the fire equipment, I had a bit of a Thunderbirds brain lapse! If anyone knows the correct pod please let me know!  
  
End Note: Thank you, once again for your lovely reviews, kind people. You really make my day. Chapter 6 coming very soon as I'm on a bit of a writing binge. I won't let you down, promise. 


	6. Chapter 6 Which Tracy? Part A

Disclaimer: Don't own Thunderbirds. No money made from this fic etc, etc.  
  
Authors Note: Thank you, once again for your reviews, everyone! As you already know, I am eternally grateful...(have I mentioned that before?!?!)  
  
Onward!!!!  
  
Fate By Suzi Roberts  
  
Chapter 6 – Which Tracy? Part A.  
  
"Thunderbird One calling Thunderbird Two. I am at the danger zone. What is your ETA?"  
  
"Thunderbird Two calling. ETA is six minutes."  
  
"Right. Thunderbird One to base. Come in Scott."  
  
Scott flicked the switch at Jeff's desk, and Alan's face appeared on the screen.  
  
"Go ahead Alan. How's it going?"  
  
"I'm at the danger zone Scott. Thunderbird Two should join me any minute."  
  
"How's the situation looking?"  
  
"Fairly routine, Scott. With the fire fighting equipment we'll have the family out in no time. Over and out."  
  
Scott closed the link and waited for Gordon's confirmation of arrival. He didn't have to wait long, though it seemed like forever.  
  
"Thunderbird Two calling base. Have reached the danger zone. Will rendezvous with Thunderbird One and get to work."  
  
"Thanks Gordon. Over and out."  
  
******  
  
Jeff stared into the mug of coffee in his hand. The doctor had assured him that Virgil would be allowed to come home until the transplant. Each day transport would be arranged so that he could get to the hospital and back for his treatment.  
  
That was simple enough. But Jeff had been thinking of something else more major.  
  
The kidney donor.  
  
Who should it be? He thought. He knew Scott would want to be tested immediately. That young man would have given his life for any of his brothers if they were in trouble.  
  
Yet Scott might not be a match.  
  
If each of Virgil's brothers agreed, they would all be tested for a match. While Jeff knew the chances of none of the boys being a match to Virgil were small, he couldn't help wondering if they'd have a stroke of bad luck and Virgil would have to wait for a donor.  
  
Jeff pushed the thoughts away. Of course there'd be a match.  
  
There had to be.  
  
******  
  
"Thunderbird One to base. Mission successful."  
  
"Great job boys!" Scott replied. "Any casualties?"  
  
"One of the children has got a little trouble breathing, but the doctor should be able to sort that out. Otherwise, they're all fit and well!"  
  
Scott breathed a sigh of relief.  
  
"Emergency over. Everyone back to base!"  
  
Scott gratefully drank the coffee Tin-Tin had brought in.  
  
He glanced up from desk at her. She was sitting on the sofa, reading her magazine.  
  
"What are you reading, Tin-Tin?" Scott asked, genuinely interested.  
  
Tin-Tin looked up.  
  
"I don't know, Scott. I've been trying to read the same story over and over but I can't stop thinking about Virgil."  
  
Scott guiltily came back to his senses. What with all the rescue business, he had forgotten about Virgil.  
  
"Yeah. I wonder how he his." Scott thought aloud.  
  
And, by sheer coincidence, the radio link began to bleep.  
  
"Scott, come in. This your father speaking."  
  
"Hi Dad. How's everything going?"  
  
"We're coming home in a couple of hours, Scott. I want everyone in the lounge when we get back. There's something important that we all need to discuss. As a family."  
  
Scott frowned worriedly.  
  
"Sure Dad. I'll see to it."  
  
"Any emergencies?"  
  
"Just a bush fire in Australia, Dad. Routine rescue, really."  
  
"Right. Our ETA should be about 1900 hours, Scott. Over and out."  
  
Scott closed the link, surprised. His father hadn't even asked how the rescue had been or if anyone was hurt. It was most unusual.  
  
It was also very worrying.  
  
******  
  
The buzz of the Helijet shook Tracy Island for the second time that day as it made it's landing.  
  
The entire family stood on the balcony, awaiting Virgil's return. They watched as Jeff and Virgil climbed off the jet, exchanged words with the pilot, and made their way indoors.  
  
Scott ushered everyone to their seats in the dining room, and waited.  
  
*****  
  
"Virgil," Jeff said, poising a hand over the automatic door release, "I think we should tell everyone about your news straight away."  
  
"Sure Dad." Virgil shrugged.  
  
Jeff looked worriedly at his son. He had been utterly silent on the journey home, and when his condition was mentioned he answered with as few words as possible, or sometimes only a gesture.  
  
All were signals that Virgil wasn't taking the news well at all.  
  
Oh, come on Jeff! He thought to himself. Of course the poor boy's not going to have taken that sort of news well! Would you?  
  
Jeff hit the door release almost violently and the door slid to one side. He and Virgil stepped into the lounge, where every family member was present. Even John's video link was open so he could be "present" at the gathering.  
  
Virgil didn't know where to look and dropped his gaze to the floor.  
  
"Hi, Virg." Scott finally said, breaking the heavy silence that hung in the room like a thundercloud. "How...are you feeling?"  
  
Initially, Scott had been going to say, "How did it go?" but he thought better of it when he had seen the expression his father wore.  
  
"Fine, Scott. Fine."  
  
A lie, they both knew, but at least it broke the silence up a little.  
  
"Er..." Scott started, looking around. "Why don't we all have a seat and sort out what's going on, eh?"  
  
Virgil sat down uneasily on the only empty sofa in the room. His father took the place next to him and began to speak.  
  
"Well," Jeff said, wishing he didn't have to be the one to do this job, " As you have probably realized, Virgil definitely does have diabetes. This, I'm pleased to say, can be controlled with daily doses of insulin, which your brother can administer himself."  
  
Scott half-relaxed. Well, at least they'd got a proper diagnosis at last.  
  
"The thing which came as more of a shock," Jeff paused, silently willing his sons to brace themselves, "Is the fact that Virgil has a more serious underlying problem. The diabetes has been lingering for some time now, so I'm told, and has therefore done some damage."  
  
He momentarily stopped to look around, and wished he hadn't. The looks on their faces were making this job worse than it already was.  
  
Virgil was still sitting in silence, yet his face was becoming redder and redder with...what? Jeff didn't know.  
  
"So what is it, Dad?" Gordon asked, his honey-coloured eyes looking into his father's deep blue ones.  
  
Jeff tore his gaze away and looked at the floor once again.  
  
"Kidney failure." Jeff said so quickly that it came out as one word.  
  
With no warning, Virgil got up and stomped out of the lounge. Despite the shock of the announcement, Scott watched his brother go, understanding how he felt.  
  
Even as a child, Virgil hated to be put in the spotlight for any reason, unless it was playing his piano. So all this fuss obviously made him feel terribly uncomfortable.  
  
Jeff cleared his throat and eventually spoke.  
  
"We need to find a kidney donor before anything can go ahead. The doctor thinks it would be a good idea if you boys were tested."  
  
Jeff wasn't really surprised when each one of them nodded in agreement.  
  
*****  
  
Virgil sat on the edge of his bed, already feeling ashamed of his actions in the living room. He'd been trying not to make a scene, he really had. He knew how hard it was for his father to have to tell the family such a thing, and he knew how hurt everyone would be by such news.  
  
But all the emotion he'd tried to bottle up since he'd found out...  
  
He wasn't like Scott or Jeff. He couldn't sit back and pretend his feelings didn't exist. If he did, then that was what happened – he couldn't take it.  
  
Virgil walked over to his wardrobe and opened the door. From the top shelf, he took down a photo of his mother, Lucy.  
  
He just stood and looked at it for a while, like he sometimes did. The family never talked about her aloud – it seemed that Jeff just found it too painful to discuss.  
  
He put his beloved possession back in the wardrobe and went back to the bed, taking his shoes off and curling into a ball in the middle of the mattress.  
  
His concerns weren't only for himself. He was more worried over which brother would have to give away a kidney to him.  
  
What if something happened to them during the operation? What if the chosen brother died in surgery?  
  
Virgil would never forgive himself.  
  
A loud knock on the door roused Virgil from his thoughts.  
  
I'm just being paranoid, he thought as he got up. Nothing will happen. It'll all be fine and then I can get back to living. Yeah, that's what'll happen.  
  
He opened the door to arrive face to face with Scott.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------  
  
End Note: Not too heavy a cliff-hanger today, folks! Watch this area for Chapter 7 – Which Tracy? Part B – Two Brothers Talk. 


	7. Chapter 7 Which Tracy? Part B Two Brot...

Disclaimer: I still don't own Thunderbirds, despite my protests (ha!) and I have made no money from this fic.  
  
Author's Note: Aww, thanks for the reviews everyone! And cgruber – The difference between type 1 and 2 diabetes is type 1 is insulin-dependant and type 2 is not. ;-)  
  
Thank you all!!! (again)  
  
Fate  
  
By Suzi Roberts  
  
Chapter 7 – Which Tracy? Part B – Two Brothers Talk.  
  
Scott looked at Virgil questioningly.  
  
"Can I come in?" he asked.  
  
"Sure."  
  
Virgil sat on the bed again, closely followed by Scott, who perched on the very edge of the mattress.  
  
There was an uneasy silence between the two brothers as Scott wondered what to say. In the end he sighed.  
  
"Dad's upset, you know." He knew this wasn't the most intelligent thing he could say at that moment; but at least it was a start.  
  
"I know." Virgil replied, looking at his lap.  
  
"He was trying as hard as he could, Virg. Not to upset you, I mean. He knows how difficult you're finding this, despite trying to show everyone you don't really care."  
  
Virgil opened his mouth and closed it again. Scott looked at him.  
  
"Virg?"  
  
"I do care Scott. I'm sorry if I upset Dad."  
  
"You ought to tell him that yourself," Scott said gently.  
  
"I will. It's just I'm so worried. The doctor says that one of you have to donate a kidney to me – what if one of you dies? The family would collapse..."  
  
"And have you thought about how we'd feel if you were the one to..."  
  
Scott couldn't bring himself to say the word "die" – but thankfully Virgil didn't need to hear it.  
  
"Of course I have Scott. I'm just worried about all of you..."  
  
"I think, Virg," Scott said gently, "that for once you need to worry about yourself."  
  
Virgil didn't reply.  
  
"We've got to face this with a positive attitude," Scott proceeded, "And once it's over, it's OVER, right?"  
  
Virgil looked up with a new hope inside.  
  
"Yeah," he said. "Yeah, you're right, Scott. Ever since earlier all I've thought about is what happens when something goes wrong. I haven't even stopped to think about what'd happen if it all went RIGHT."  
  
"That's the spirit, Virg!" Scott grinned, glad he'd managed to break through to his brother. "Now, come on. You've got something to say to Dad."  
  
Virgil's smile faded a little.  
  
"Yes I have. I feel terrible."  
  
"Well, don't feel TOO terrible. I think he might make an exception. Just this once, of course." Scott smiled jokingly.  
  
Feeling more light-hearted, Virgil followed Scott from the room, closing the door behind him.  
  
*******  
  
The door to the Tracy lounge hissed open. Virgil stepped inside, no longer accompanied by Scott. In fact, the lounge was completely empty, a rarity for such a busy household.  
  
Well, the room was NEARLY completely empty. Jeff sat at his desk, as usual , head buried somewhere in the newspaper.  
  
Virgil cleared his throat.  
  
"Err...Dad?" he said quietly.  
  
Jeff put down his paper and smiled.  
  
"Hello, son. Feeling any better?"  
  
"Sure Dad. Scott came and spoke to me earlier."  
  
Jeff grinned inwardly. Scott had always known how to get to Virgil, ever since they were children.  
  
"Listen, Dad. I'm really sorry for what happened earlier. I felt under so much pressure...if I hadn't have left I would have..."  
  
"Exploded?" Jeff smiled. "You're just like your mother, you are."  
  
Virgil stood still, momentarily distracted. It had been the first time Jeff had mentioned his mother with ease for nearly twenty two years. Virgil walked slowly closer to the desk.  
  
"Like I said," Virgil started carefully, "I really am sorry."  
  
"It's OK, Virgil." Jeff reached over to give him a hug, then backed out and patted him on the shoulder.  
  
"Thanks Dad." Virgil smiled back. "There's just one more thing..."  
  
"What son?" Jeff looked at him worriedly.  
  
"Until the transplant, can I still go out on rescues?"  
  
Jeff shook his head, smiling.  
  
"Yes son. Of course you can. But only if you feel up to it!"  
  
******  
  
"OK, Dr Jackson. Thursday? Right. Yes, they'll be there. I'm sorry, I'm afraid only the two of them can make it that day. Yes. Thank you. 'Bye."  
  
Jeff put down the telephone. It was a rare occasion on which he used it, but a radio link wasn't exactly practical for a personal call.  
  
He turned to Scott and Alan.  
  
"OK, you two. The doctor wants you to take your tests on the coming Thursday. On your return, Alan will travel to the space station in Thunderbird Three to relieve John of his duties whilst he is tested with Gordon on the approaching Friday."  
  
"Yes, Sir."  
  
"OK, Dad."  
  
"Oh, Dad," Scott began, "Virgil just called while you were on the phone. He says he's on his way back and should be here by eleven."  
  
"Thanks, Scott. How did he sound?"  
  
"OK, Dad. He said he's getting to used to it by now."  
  
Jeff chuckled. Virgil had been having dialysis for two days and he reckoned he was already "used to it".  
  
It had been relatively quiet for the past two days and the whole family had been relaxing. Where they lived, every day was perfect to be spent in the pool, or catching the rays.  
  
As Scott and Alan dived in the pool to cool off that extraordinarily hot day, Jeff couldn't help but watch and wonder which one of these lively boys would be alongside Virgil in an operating theatre in the next few months.  
  
******  
  
The eyes of Virgil's portrait flashed.  
  
"Go ahead son. How's the situation?"  
  
"Good, father. A couple of the people are injured, but not severely. Everyone else had a lucky escape, I guess."  
  
"Good work, son. How're you feeling?"  
  
"I'm fine, Dad. Boy, is it weird without Thunderbird One!"  
  
Jeff laughed.  
  
"Yes, son, I guess it is. But we got the problem sorted, that's the main thing. Right. Back to base!"  
  
The link closed.  
  
Jeff ran a hand over his brow. It hadn't been a long rescue; but it had been a difficult one.  
  
It had started earlier that morning, when a lorry had smashed into the side of a star hotel and blown up within minutes; the driver barely escaping with his life.  
  
A fire had started at the ground floor of the building, the flames licking their way to the first floor before the fire had been detected.  
  
The Fire Services had been called, but the fire had already gone beyond their help. International Rescue had been their last hope.  
  
Virgil had set out alone that day with Gordon and Brains. Both Scott and Alan were having their tests done, so there had been no-one to fly Thunderbird One. It had been agreed that Virgil could manage this with Thunderbird two alone, and Gordon on Mobile Control.  
  
They'd set out immediately, reaching the location in New York in record time.  
  
They'd worked hard and fast, with Virgil digging his way in with the Mole, and Gordon and he kitted out for the blaze whilst Brains handled Mobile Control.  
  
Virgil and Gordon had fought their way in, and, with the help of the Fire Services, had managed to rescue everyone AND eventually extinguish the fire.  
  
Jeff had feared that it may have been to stressful for Virgil; but he seemed OK. It was like that, he'd said. Some days he'd be fine; others he wouldn't.  
  
******  
  
ONE WEEK LATER.  
  
Jeff sat with Virgil in the waiting room. Virgil twiddled his fingers and ran his hand through his hair; Jeff watched each patient go in and out of the doctors office, both men equally nervous of what they were going to hear.  
  
When eventually "Tracy" was called, they both jumped and rose from their seats simultaneously; welcomed by a smiling Dr Jackson.  
  
"Right," he said, flicking through the file. "we have the results of your brothers' tests, Virgil."  
  
He stopped to find the correct page.  
  
"Ah. We have two matches..."  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------  
  
End Note: Chapter 8 coming soon. I hope this chapter wasn't a disappointment to anyone. If it was, I'm sorry and the next chapter will make up for it! Drop me a review if you have time... 


	8. Chapter 8 Which Tracy? Part C Decisions

Disclaimer: Don't own Thunderbirds, characters etc...  
  
Author's Note: Thanks for your reviews! I apologize for the mistakes – I'm British! I'm not clever enough for that! ;-)  
  
And a lorry is a truck. I only know some of the American alternatives to the English language.  
  
Onward!!!  
  
Fate By Suzi Roberts  
  
Chapter 8 – Which Tracy? Part C.  
  
Dr Jackson looked up from the file.  
  
"Tests A and C are positive. That would be..."  
  
He looked at the chart.  
  
"Scott and Gordon. They are both perfect matches."  
  
There was a silence as the doctor let them take this in before he continued.  
  
"It will be up to your brothers," he said, addressing Virgil, "To decide which one is to be the donor. When this has been confirmed we can organize a date for the transplant."  
  
"Thank you doctor." Virgil replied quietly.  
  
******  
  
Virgil was deep in thought as they boarded the aircraft that would take him home.  
  
He was seeing too much of this aircraft these days.  
  
He didn't like the idea of Scott OR Gordon going ahead with this operation; although he knew one of them would have to.  
  
He preferred the idea of Scott being the donor; but his thoughts were still around International Rescue and how it would cope with the two lead pilots out of action for two or three weeks.  
  
On the other hand, Virgil felt he couldn't let Gordon be the donor. Gordon was two years his junior; and Virgil had always been very protective of him. He couldn't let him go through with something like this.  
  
He leant back on the hard seat and closed his eyes, thoughts still whirling around in his mind.  
  
Which brother would want to do this?  
  
********  
  
Virgil ran his hands along the keyboard of the grand piano that stood in the lounge. He sighed as he came to the end of the song. He'd been playing the same music for hours; over and over again.  
  
After he and Jeff had announced the news to Scott and Gordon, they'd gone to the roundhouse to discuss it between themselves.  
  
That had been two hours ago. They still hadn't returned and the suspense was killing Virgil.  
  
He smiled grimly to himself . All those death clichés. He'd used them so many times, not paying attention to them. Things like, "Dad's gonna kill me." And, "I feel like death."  
  
He sat there watching the clock for a while, then finally gave up and went outside.  
  
******  
  
IN THE ROUNDHOUSE  
  
"So which one of us is it going to be, Scott?"  
  
"Now just hang on in there, Gordo. We're not going to rush into this."  
  
"OK, Scott. If you say so."  
  
Scott sat down in the plump chair opposite Gordon.  
  
He silently turned things over in his mind before beginning.  
  
"Now, Gordon," Scott said uncomfortably. "I think it would probably be best if I was the donor..." he paused at the slightly annoyed look on Gordon's face before continuing, "Gordon. You're still only twenty two. Don't you think you're a bit..."  
  
"Young?" Gordon finished with a sigh. "I knew you'd say that, Scott. I'm only three years younger than you. Besides, I want to help Virgil out as well."  
  
Gordon looked at Scott defensively.  
  
Scott looked at his hands.  
  
"I guess you're right, Gordon," he said, much to the younger man's surprise. "This isn't a matter of age. This is about what's best for Virgil."  
  
Gordon took a moment to accept this. It was usually a "big brother" act, or an "I know best". But this....this was different.  
  
"Right. Let's discuss this." Scott said. "Properly."  
  
They'd been discussing it ever since – for nearly two and a half hours.  
  
*******  
  
When they emerged, it was five o'clock.  
  
The whole family were just sitting down to the feast that Josie had prepared when the two brothers had walked into the room.  
  
Each member of the family had worn certain expressions.  
  
All were worried.  
  
Most were inquisitive.  
  
Three were on edge.  
  
One was nervous.  
  
Scott looked at Gordon. For once, Scott didn't want to be the one to say it.  
  
Gordon watched each family member's face as he said the words. The words he and Scott had been discussing all afternoon.  
  
"We've decided."  
  
Gordon looked over at his father.  
  
"It's Scott."  
  
___________________________________________________________________  
  
End Note: Chapter Nine coming soon! Please review! Sorry it's so short this time! 


	9. Chapter 9 Waiting

Disclaimer: I do not own Thunderbirds...  
  
Author's Note: Thank you for your reviews again! Sorry it's been a while since the last post – I have been rather pre-occupied of late, (that's far too posh sounding, I know) and whilst I have been rushing around I have also been planning out this chapter. Dedicated to my mum again, this time because she has come home!!!! (Yay!)  
  
Anyway, no more drabble. Onward!  
  
Fate  
  
By Suzi Roberts  
  
Chapter Nine – Waiting  
  
"Why Scott, then?" Jeff asked, the first to break the silence.  
  
"Well, Dad," Gordon said, "It's like this. We discussed the matter in detail in the roundhouse. We went through the options and we both agreed it should be Scott. I wanted to help Virgil too. But talking about it, we decided between us that Scott should be the one for this job. I think he wanted to do it, perhaps even MORE than I do."  
  
"Neither of you have to do this," Virgil suddenly put in, "I'll wait for a donor. The dialysis isn't that bad. I can cope..."  
  
"You'll do no such thing, Virgil," Scott replied quickly, not missing a beat. "I WANT to help you."  
  
"But Scott..." Virgil's voice was rising, and he sounded panicky.  
  
"Virgil! The decision's been made now. Now don't go getting all worked up, or you'll bring on one of your attacks. We'll both be fine."  
  
Virgil fell quiet; he knew there was no point arguing with Scott at that moment. Scott was like Jeff; he could lay down the rules, and you obeyed.  
  
"Are you sure about this, Scott?" Jeff asked. "Do you want to sleep on it before I call the doctor?"  
  
"No." Scott's reply was calm, cool and determined. "Me and Gordon have decided. The donor will be me."  
  
No-one said a word as Jeff reached for the telephone and punched in the number.  
  
******  
  
Virgil sat on the smooth rock, worn away by the constant waves of pure ocean water washing over it.  
  
He sat there thinking. He seemed to be doing a lot of that lately. Usually his piano was his outlet for his thoughts and emotions, but just recently it hadn't seemed to work. This was different. Sitting watching the waves of crystal clear water wash up the sand, inches away form his feet. He'd sit there while the tide was out, watching and thinking.  
  
Thinking about whether he'd be here the following Friday to see it.  
  
Then thinking about how paranoid he was.  
  
If Virgil was truthful to himself, he was terrified. He wasn't the brave Tracy son that he tried to make himself out to be about this; he was anxious and uneasy.  
  
What would happen if Scott were to die and he lived?  
  
Would his father ever forgive him for that? Virgil knew he wouldn't forgive himself.  
  
And what would happen if HE were to die and Scott lived?  
  
Virgil shook his head to try and rid himself of these thoughts. All he'd been able to think about the past two weeks was death. It was the first thing he thought of when he woke up and the last thing he thought of at night. He dreamed about it; terrible recurring nightmares where he lay on the operating table, alone. Scott was never with him. He always saw the anaesthetist inject the anaesthetic, but he was never asleep when they started the operation. He always saw them make the first incision. Then the nightmare would advance a little and there was always be blood everywhere...then it went black just as he began to wake up.  
  
Virgil knew he screamed out in this nightmare, for once he'd woken up to find Jeff standing over him, concern written all over his face.  
  
"Are you OK, son?" Jeff had asked. "You were screaming."  
  
"I'm fine, Dad," Virgil had said, despite shaking and being drenched in sweat. "Just a bad dream, that's all."  
  
Coming back to the present, Virgil looked at his watch. 2.00pm.  
  
Three hours he'd been here already. Time seemed to have no meaning to him now, except when they were on rescues.  
  
There'd only been three rescues in the last two weeks; relatively quiet for such an organization.  
  
Virgil had been stressed out the last fourteen days; and it showed via his condition.  
  
He'd had at least three hypoglycaemic attacks, one, unfortunately, had occurred on a rescue. Luckily for him, he hadn't been piloting Thunderbird Two at the time, and the attack hadn't been too severe. Still, Gordon had had to pilot the green craft back to the island, in case Virgil had crashed.  
  
Thinking back on that brought the thought of death back to the front of his mind. He really couldn't rid himself of it.  
  
In the privacy of his bedroom the last two weeks, Virgil had been writing letters to each member of his family, just in case.  
  
He'd even written about what would happen to him after he died, who would have his things, how the family were to behave about him.  
  
He hadn't directly written the words, "If I die" or "I won't be around when you read this". He'd made the letters as chatty as he could, ending them with, "See you later" or "talk soon".  
  
But in each one, he'd made his feelings about that person clear.  
  
The words "I love you" weren't used in the Tracy family since the boys' mother had died, except in extreme circumstances, but they'd popped up more than once in those letters Virgil had spent hours composing.  
  
Virgil got up off the rock and stretched.  
  
The tide will come in soon, he thought to himself, as he walked up the beach.  
  
He walked through the Tracy lounge, not forgetting to greet his father, Alan and Tin-Tin on the way.  
  
He shook his head after passing them. Wasn't it clear to them? Alan loved Tin-Tin and Tin-Tin loved Alan. It was as simple as that. Why didn't they quit fooling and get together while they still had the time?  
  
He shook his head again. Now he sounded like a romantic.  
  
He entered his tidy bedroom with relief. It was always quiet here, peaceful.  
  
Virgil sat at his desk. He picked up a pen and began to sort through the pile of letters that waited on the desktop.  
  
He'd written them all on the spur of the moment. He just wanted to check how they sounded. Not too morbid, he thought.  
  
Pulling the first one from it's envelope, he opened out the paper and began to read.  
  
___________________________________________________________________  
  
End Note: Did you like this one? Please review! And taking the advice from one of my faithful reviewers, quiller, (cheers!)...Is there an American reader who'd proof-read my work for American language? Please email me if you are interested at dollyluver@msn.com. Chapter Ten – Letters will probably be here by the 17th! I will leave you....for now. 


	10. Chapter 10 Letters From The Heart

Disclaimer: I do not own the Thunderbirds, blah, blah, blah. (Sorry, couldn't be bothered with the disclaimer today.)  
  
Author's Note: It's a very different chappie this time! All in Virgil's POV! Please review!!!  
  
Fate  
  
By Suzi Roberts  
  
Chapter Ten – Letters From The Heart  
  
"Dear John,  
  
You were the first person I decided to write to.  
  
Over these last two weeks, waiting for my transplant on the 3rd. I've been kinda stressed out over it. All these questions keep running through my head.  
  
I'm still stressed over the fact that Scott is going to be the donor. I'm worried about what would happen if we lost him. But as you know, that's me all over when these things happen, all paranoia and no confidence at all!  
  
It's really soothing just to sit here and write at my leisurely pace, without being hurried because I've got somewhere to go or something to do. As you know, there've been a couple of rescues lately, (one where I was the center of attention, unfortunately) but most of the time I've spent on the beach, just watching the ocean.  
  
We were really close as kids, remember? You were born only a year after me, and I felt like your protector, especially after Mom died when you were five.  
  
We had a lot of fun when Mom was around, didn't we? I'm not saying we didn't have fun after she died – we did – but when she was around, everything was different, wasn't it?  
  
She always made up great games for us to play. I don't know how she and Dad got any time to themselves with us three around – and when Gordon was born.  
  
I hope I'm not upsetting you, Johnny, with all this talk about Mom. I know you were really close to her.  
  
I always wanted to chat about her, but I was always so afraid of upsetting Dad. For the first time since she died, Dad mentioned her to me the other day. In fact, he told me I was just like her.  
  
I really look forward to coming home from my operation and having you lot wait around on me (and Scott) for a few weeks. It'll sure make a change from the other way round!  
  
Love you, Johnny. See you soon.  
  
With love, as always,  
  
Virgil."  
  
___________________________________________________________________  
  
"Dear Alan,  
  
I felt I needed to write to you next.  
  
It's two weeks before my transplant while I'm writing this.  
  
It's a terrible strain, all this waiting, hanging around, just wishing the day would hurry up and come so we can get over with and get back to normal.  
  
Ah, Alan. The wild guy of the family. Seriously, the stories I've heard are unbelievable! For shame, boy!  
  
Oh dear. I hope I haven't got you into a strop, Al! I was only joking!  
  
I haven't been up to much these past few days; just writing these letters and sitting on the beach really.  
  
Thinking.  
  
The other day I was thinking about Mom. I'm really sorry you never got to meet her, Al. She only saw you for a little while but even then she adored you. Even at six years old, I could recognize that.  
  
As with all of us, Mom hoped you'd be a girl. But all she did was look at those lovely baby blue eyes, and, even in her condition, fell in love with you instantly.  
  
I know there's an issue because she died during your birth. I know that every year on your birthday, everybody is always miserable and it can't feel like a birthday at all.  
  
I'm sorry.  
  
But someone else is helping to heal that hurting heart of yours, aren't they, Alan?  
  
Someone who adores you, and who you adore equally, but have never once tried to commit to, always using International Rescue as an excuse.  
  
That someone is Tin-Tin.  
  
Alan, you're wasting time. You don't realize how precious life is until you dice with death.  
  
You and Tin-Tin are made for each other. Please don't waste any more time hesitating.  
  
You're throwing away more and more of those precious moments together.  
  
Alan, you're someone to be proud of. You've grown up and turned out OK, if a little moody. (Sorry, sorry!)  
  
You're special to all of us, Alan. We all love you.  
  
With love, as always,  
  
Virgil."  
  
___________________________________________________________________  
  
"Dear Scott,  
  
You're the next person I wanted to write to...or should I say victim?  
  
You've probably noticed how quiet I've been for the last two weeks. I'm usually quiet anyway, but lately I've hardly uttered two words, even to you.  
  
I'm so grateful for what you've decided to do for me, Scott. It's a debt I'll probably never get the chance to repay. Once you've lost a kidney to me, you'll have to be more careful when we're out on rescues.  
  
That means not so much of the "daring hero" act, Scott!  
  
I know I've been moody lately, Scott. I've bitten yours and Dad's head off more than once and I practically made Tin-Tin cry.  
  
I'm sorry, Scott. I've felt really stressed over this operation and I feel like exploding!  
  
I told Dad that the other week. You know, when you said I should apologize to him for storming out of the dining room.  
  
He said I was "just like my mother".  
  
It's the first time he's mentioned her to me in twenty-two years, and I wondered, is this a breakthrough? Will we finally be able to talk about Mom without getting over-upset?  
  
You're just like Dad, Scott. Whenever something goes wrong, or you feel bad, you bottle it up. You don't really have an outlet. Well, apart from the gym.  
  
But don't you ever want to talk? I've tried asking you that vocally but you always just shake your head and brush me off.  
  
But now you can't brush me off, can you? Well, you can always stop reading, I suppose, but you don't REALLY want to do that, do you?  
  
I've been writing letters to everyone, but yours is possibly the longest yet. I bet you're asleep reading it.  
  
I'll say it again, Scott. I'll always be grateful for what you're doing for me.  
  
With Love, as always,  
  
Virgil."  
  
___________________________________________________________________  
  
"Dear Gordon,  
  
You're next on my list of victims!  
  
You're the joker of the family, Gordo. You've got the best sense of humor of all of us, and probably the least brain cells. (Sorry Gordo! Joking, joking.)  
  
Seriously, though, I'm writing letters to every member of the family, as something to pass the time in the lead up to this transplant.  
  
Then when I come home, you'll all have read them and can have some great fun making fun of me...that is, while you wait around on me and Scott.  
  
Every letter I've written so far mentions Mom. You don't really remember her, do you, Gords? You were just over a year old when she left us.  
  
You knew who she was at the time, though. All you did was sit up and yell "MAMA!" after she died. You missed her, even if you were a baby.  
  
I've got some photos of her in my room. They're right at the back of the closet, on the top shelf, so if you ever want to have a look, the offer's always open.  
  
Just don't barge in without knocking!  
  
Gordon, I want to thank you as well.  
  
I know you were as prepared as Scott to give your kidney to me and I'll always be grateful for that.  
  
But you've had enough trauma already, what with your hydrofoil accident a few years back.  
  
We nearly lost you then.  
  
The whole family's still in shock that you made it.  
  
Every time I see you, I think about that time. We won't ever take you for granted, Gords.  
  
Well, I won't.  
  
With Love, as always,  
  
Virgil."  
  
___________________________________________________________________  
  
"Dear Tin-Tin,  
  
The very first thing I want to say to you is how sorry I am about the other day.  
  
I didn't mean to snap at you. I know you were hurt and close to tears.  
  
I've been very snappy lately. I keep biting off people's heads and then immediately regretting it.  
  
I know you were trying to help, Tin-Tin. I regret my shouting at you. You didn't deserve it and I wouldn't blame you if you didn't speak to me for a whole year!  
  
I'm sitting here, trying to think of the right words to say to you. This is about the third time I've tried to write your letter!  
  
Tin-Tin. What I really want to tell you about is Alan. Not that you need telling, that is!  
  
I'm making a right mess of this.  
  
Tin-Tin...stop wasting time. You and Alan obviously want to get it together and you are both letting International Rescue stand in your way.  
  
Life is precious and you could be letting good times pass you by.  
  
Anyway enough of this stuff. Just think about it, OK?  
  
Tin-Tin, you are a valued member of International Rescue and you are like a little sister to me. A sister I always wanted, but never had. Until you joined the family. I love you like a sister. Dad loves you too, even though he'd never say so. So that's just between us, OK?  
  
Well, I better close for now, I guess my letter's kinda going on a bit!  
  
With Love, as always,  
  
Virgil. xx."  
  
___________________________________________________________________  
  
"Dear Kyrano,  
  
You've been living with our family for years now, yet we never have had much time to chat.  
  
You're always busy in the kitchen with my Grandma, or doing some form of chores.  
  
Yet you are still a valued member of our family. I remember after the Sentinel shot down Thunderbird Two by mistake. I was practically bedridden – something I hate - but you kept my spirits up, bringing my meals bang on time every day, and standing around talking as you straightened my room. I have to say, Kyrano, my room has never looked tidier and it never will again!  
  
You must be really proud of Tin-Tin. She is a very talented girl and highly clever, but a lot of fun all at the same time.  
  
Kyrano, I value you and your daughter just as much as anyone in this family who bears the Tracy name.  
  
Thank you for all you've done.  
  
With love from  
  
Virgil."  
  
___________________________________________________________________  
  
"Dear Grandma,  
  
I thought I'd better write you a letter too, since I am your favorite grandson (ahem).  
  
I'm still feeling a little stressed at the moment, what with everything happening next week.  
  
You've been trying to spoil me lately, Grandma, I know you have. You've been whipping up all sorts of delicious goodies in the kitchen that don't contain much sugar, as you're worried I'll have one of my "attacks."  
  
Well, Grandma, those goodies were wonderful, and I wonder if there'll be any more around soon... (joke, joke)  
  
I know you're very worried about what's happening to me, just like everyone else.  
  
I also know you're trying to hide it, so as not to worry me.  
  
Well, Grandma, you're doing a mighty fine job so far and even I believed you.. for a while.  
  
You're so brave, Grandma. You coped so well with the strain when Mom died, and you and Dad did a great job of bringing us kids up and turning us into decent people.  
  
Grandma, you know secrets about me and my brothers that no-one knows. You've never told Dad any of them and you've saved us a lot of trouble over it!  
  
I wonder if you'll be waiting on me and Scott hand and foot when we come home?  
  
No, I expect you'll be hurrying us to get up and get better rather than let us mope around all day!  
  
I love you, Grandma.  
  
All my love,  
  
Virgil. xxxx."  
  
___________________________________________________________________  
  
"Dear Brains,  
  
You're another person I have to write to before I have my operation.  
  
I hardly ever see you, as you're always in the lab busy with some new experiment.  
  
But you're valued as a member of this family. Underneath your quiet exterior, you've got a good sense of humor.  
  
You are a very much appreciated member of International Rescue and have helped me out on many a difficult occasion!  
  
Like the time when the KLF pirate satellite was magnetically sealed to Thunderbird Two.  
  
It was dragging us down towards that infirmary. You were the one to keep me calm when, for once, I panicked on a rescue.  
  
You were reassuring to me on the way home after we thought O'Chea had been killed.  
  
Thanks, Brains. For everything.  
  
With Love from  
  
Virgil."  
  
___________________________________________________________________  
  
Dear Dad,  
  
I don't know what to write.  
  
I've written letters like this to everyone. They'll all have a great time laughing at me when I'm home.  
  
The other letters weren't easy to write, but in comparison to this one, they seem easy. As I seal down each envelope, something tugs inside. If I was a romantic, I'd say something was "pulling at my heartstrings".  
  
This letter I am writing to you now is doing just that.  
  
I can't believe how calm everyone seems about this operation. I actually feel panicky and nervous. Every day I sit on the beach, turning things over in my mind.  
  
Obviously I've thought about dying.  
  
I'm sorry, Dad, but sometimes I can't help thinking like that.  
  
Anyway, what this letter was SUPPOSED to be about how I feel about you and our family life, not about the transplant.  
  
You were so brave after Mom died. I've yet to meet anyone who was as brave as you about it. You made sure us kids had a good upbringing and were well looked after.  
  
I know you find it so hard to talk to anyone about Mom and it felt wonderful when you told I was "just like my mother" a couple of weeks ago. It was beautiful just to hear you say something about Mom. I've always wanted to talk to you about her, but I figure you were just too upset about it all. And who can blame you, Dad?  
  
I know you worked really hard to get your business off the ground. But I still wish we'd all spent more quality time together when us boys were young.  
  
But you've given us a good quality of life and a happy home to live in.  
  
I enjoyed my childhood and all of us boys look up to you in a way you can't imagine.  
  
I know love in our family isn't often shown physically, with hugs and things like that. Just sometimes I wish they were. I know the love is there, Dad – but I'd still like to hear it.  
  
So, I'll be the first person to start breaking that barrier:  
  
I love you, Dad.  
  
All my love,  
  
Virgil. xx."  
  
___________________________________________________________________  
  
End Note: I told you it was different! I hope you have all been moved/touched, especially by the letter to Jeff. Am I the only person who really likes him on this site? He's my favourite character, actually...closely followed by Virgil. My aim was also to make Jeff out to be more than a workaholic and someone who has trouble with his emotions (though I agree, he DOES), and more like the loving father I see him as. I enjoyed writing this chapter very much. It's my favourite so far. Hope I didn't do too bad with American spellings etc! Chapter 11 coming soon... 


	11. Chapter 11 Twenty Four Hours Part A

Disclaimer: I do not own Thunderbirds in any way, they belong to Gerry Anderson (wonderful man!) and Company.  
  
Author's Note: Thanks to everyone on their great responses to my story. I'm glad "Letters from The Heart" was a success. As my mother so humorously decided to say to me, "The power of Thunderbirds!" (LOL). Sorry I took so long!! Plz r & r.....  
  
Fate  
  
By Suzi Roberts  
  
Chapter Eleven – Twenty-Four hours – Part A  
  
Virgil put down the last letter and brushed away the small tear he'd finally let trickle from his eye.  
  
Sometimes it felt good to let go of his feelings of worry and fear.  
  
He couldn't do that today.  
  
Virgil blinked back all the tears that had suddenly flooded to his eyes and swallowed to rid himself from the lump in his throat.  
  
"Virgil?"  
  
His father's voice came from the lounge.  
  
"Dinner's in ten minutes!"  
  
"OK!" Virgil just managed to shout back without his voice rising to a soprano pitch.  
  
He picked up the pile of neatly sealed letters and put them in the storage cupboard under his desk.  
  
He knew where each one would go when he left for the hospital.  
  
*******  
  
The Tracy dinner table was piled high, surrounded by a mass of eager hands.  
  
Virgil sat quietly at his place, tuning in to Jeff and Gordon's conversation.  
  
He picked at his food, not hungry, taking small mouthfuls here and there, although it all tasted like card.  
  
"So what were you up to in your room, Virg?" Gordon asked with genuine interest. "You were so quiet, we all thought you'd ran away!"  
  
"Oh, I wasn't doing much," Virgil lied. "Reading, mostly."  
  
"Ah, the great intellectual Virgil, eh?" Gordon responded, making everyone laugh heartily.  
  
Even Virgil managed a little smile.  
  
Only Josie suspected Virgil's feelings of unease, and she eyed him constantly throughout the entire meal.  
  
Josie got him to help her clear the dishes and wash them. She closed the door behind them as they entered the kitchen, and then continued to carry the plates over to the sink, where Virgil was scrubbing them vigorously with the wash cloth. Josie observed him quietly for a moment, then cleared her throat.  
  
"Young man," she said softly, "Talk to your grandma. I can tell there's something wrong."  
  
"I'm FINE, Grandma." Virgil scrubbed harder, although he looked up to answer his grandmother.  
  
"Virgil, I've raised you since you were a little boy. I KNOW there's something wrong." She looked at him out the corner of her eye.  
  
"It's the operation, isn't it?"  
  
It was more of a statement than a question, and an obvious one at that, but it worked. Virgil stopped washing and nodded silently.  
  
"And you're worried something might happen to you or your brother."  
  
Another nod.  
  
Josie watched her grandson for a minute, not quite knowing what was going to happen next.  
  
"Grandma I don't know what to do. I'm so stressed about all this...what if something happens to Scott?"  
  
"Now you listen here my boy. I won't let you be thinking like that. That brother of yours is as tough as nails and there ain't no way he's gonna let this get to him."  
  
"But Grandma..."  
  
"No buts, young Virgil. Trust me, I know these things." Josie winked at him.  
  
As she pulled Virgil into a hug, she whispered into his ear,  
  
"And nothing's going to happen to you, either."  
  
******  
  
JUNE 2ND, 2066.  
  
Scott loaded the last of the cases into the back of Tracy 1.  
  
They were going to the hospital a day early, just for the general check-ups and some observations. It had been decided that he and Virgil would go alone for that day, and Jeff would come to the hospital on the mainland the next.  
  
To wait whilst the two young men underwent surgery.  
  
Virgil had read up on the procedure. His part of the operation was relatively simple; but Scott's was quite complicated, despite the hospital using a newer surgical procedure than the general; laparoscopic live-donor nephrectomy. *  
  
The fact that it made the removal of Scott's kidney easier didn't make much difference. It was still worrying the hell out of him.  
  
It was still a high-risk operation.  
  
It was still dangerous for the both of them.  
  
The chat Virgil had had with his grandmother the previous week had eased his nerves a little, but not completely.  
  
Nothing could do that.  
  
The two brothers boarded Tracy 1.  
  
******  
  
If he had one more blood test, he was going to scream.  
  
The day had been a blur of x-rays, blood tests and dialysis. Now Virgil was lying there, attached to a drip, bored out of his mind.  
  
Scott was in another side room some way down the corridor. He'd kept walking up to see Virgil, unable to keep still during the long waits for the doctors' visits.  
  
Virgil chuckled. How was he going to manage resting up for three weeks? What a joke.  
  
He was starving, but had to ignore it; no food for twenty-four hours before surgery. He grinned again when he thought of his brother; Scott could eat vast amounts of food when he wanted; the no eating rule must be really hard for him!  
  
He glanced at the clock. It had somehow reached 10pm. All day, time had had no meaning; it had all been just a rush from on place to another.  
  
Virgil looked and thought about the events of the next twenty four hours.  
  
What sort of situation would he and Scott be in this time the next day?  
  
"I'll soon know," he sighed as he drifted off to sleep.  
  
*******  
  
Scott looked up at the clock on his wall, annoyed to see it still said 10.30pm. Time seemed to go on forever while he was stuck here, bored, with absolutely nothing to do.  
  
He paced back and forth across his little room, sick of sitting still.  
  
He looked longingly at the strong coffee on the nurses' desk. He was tired of drinking plain water.  
  
He'd gone to see Virgil a few minutes earlier, but he'd been asleep already.  
  
"Must have been as bored as me," Scott thought agitatedly to himself.  
  
He climbed into bed and closed his eyes, thinking about the next day. He didn't feel particularly worried about himself; it was more Virgil.  
  
Scott fell into a dreamless sleep, thinking of what the next twenty four hours would bring.  
  
End Note: Yes, I had to look up laparoscopic live-donor nephrectomy! I don't really know how to explain it, it's just a less risky way of having a kidney transplant! Don't forget to review!!!!! 


	12. Chapter 12 Twenty Four Hours Part B

Disclaimer: I do not own Thunderbirds in any way, they belong to Gerry Anderson (wonderful man!) and Company.  
  
Fate  
  
By Suzi Roberts  
  
Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews, everyone! I'm hoping this chapter will cause a bit of a stir! (tee hee). This won't make any sense now, but you'll understand why I put this note here after you've read the chapter – fibrin is a special kind of foam used in operating theatres to stop you from losing too much blood!  
  
******  
  
Chapter 12 – Twenty-Four Hours – Part B  
  
Virgil sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing his eyes blearily. It was already 6.00am; three hours before his surgery. Still, he had to be up to be checked over by the doctor yet again and to have an intravenous line put into his arm, to administer drugs to prevent dehydration.  
  
He also had to have another needle injected into him to take an autotransfusion; blood for transfusion during surgery.  
  
At seven o'clock the first doctor appeared, and after greeting Virgil, inserted the intravenous line into his arm.  
  
"Good morning to you, too." Virgil thought grimly.  
  
********  
  
Jeff stepped onto the hard tarmac of the hospital grounds. He'd had a strange feeling of dread surrounding him all day; he just couldn't understand why.  
  
Everything had been checked. They'd gone over the procedure with him and Virgil about half a dozen times.  
  
He looked at the building in front of him. It was the same building where Alan had been born; and where Lucille had died.  
  
Every time he'd seen the place he'd give a shudder, his mind clouded over with the memories of that day.  
  
Jeff shook the thoughts off agitatedly; this wasn't the same, and nothing like that would happen anyway.  
  
"They'll be fine," he said aloud to calm himself. "Yes, they will."  
  
******  
  
Jeff had visited each of his sons alternately through the next two hours. He'd endured two lots of moaning; both about exactly the same things – how bored the boys were, how sick they were of doctors, and how sick they were of being jabbed with needles.  
  
At a quarter to nine the porters arrived. They took Scott first.  
  
"Good luck, son." Jeff said as he was wheeled past.  
  
"Oh, come on Dad, don't go soft. I'll be fine – you know I will."  
  
"Keep up the fighting spirit." Jeff thought to himself, smiling a little.  
  
Then they came for Virgil.  
  
"Dad."  
  
Virgil reached out and grasped Jeff's hand tightly, like a frightened child.  
  
"Don't worry son." Jeff said, tenderly pushing a curl of brown hair behind his son's ear. "You'll be OK. I'll be here when you come back."  
  
He looked up at Virgil, and if he hadn't known better he would have thought there were tears collecting in the corners of his sons' deep brown eyes.  
  
"You'll be OK." Jeff repeated, a lump suddenly forming out of nowhere in his own throat.  
  
He gave Virgil a wave as they wheeled him out of sight.  
  
******  
  
"OK, Virgil," Dr Jackson smiled. "Now, not to worry. You and your brother are in good hands. Now hang on a minute there whilst the anesthetist administers the sedative."  
  
Virgil felt far too tense to sleep. He didn't think ANY sedative could put him to sleep. He didn't really notice the sting as the needle went into his arm, lost in thought.  
  
"Virgil. Can you count backwards from ten?"  
  
As Virgil counted, he felt his eyes become more and more heavy.  
  
The last thing he remembered was saying a quick prayer in his mind.  
  
"Please God. Don't take me away from my family."  
  
*****  
  
"OK," said Dr Jackson, pulling on his white latex gloves. "Let's get this show on the road."  
  
Taking the scalpel from the assistant doctor, he began his work.  
  
*******  
  
Jeff stared at the floor of the waiting room. It had only been thirty minutes so far, yet it felt like thirty hours.  
  
Jeff was suddenly aware of a nurse standing over him.  
  
"Would you like some, coffee, Mr.Tracy?" she asked.  
  
"Oh...er, no thank you. I'm fine."  
  
The nurse didn't look convinced, but she left Jeff alone to continue his wait.  
  
*****  
  
They began the process of removing the damaged kidney.  
  
Scott's consultant began to operate for the replacement.  
  
Both doctors frowned with concentration.  
  
It had begun.  
  
*****  
  
Jeff sat in exactly the same position as before. It was only when a cramp in his leg made him jump did he get up and begin pacing.  
  
He still had a feeling in the back of his mind that he shouldn't have put the boys through this yet.  
  
He kept pushing the thought to the back of his mind, but it almost immediately wormed it's way back to the front.  
  
He finally convinced himself he was too anxious for his own good, and sat down again.  
  
*****  
  
"Doctor! This one's hemorrhaging!"  
  
"Use the fibrin!"*  
  
"It's no good, doctor! It's barely staunching the flow!"  
  
"Keep it under pressure, and for God's sake, please don't panic."  
  
"Blood flow's slowing down, doctor."  
  
"Good."  
  
It was all Dr Jackson could say at that point. His relief was short-lived as the heart monitor began bleeping and flashing wildly.  
  
"We're losing him!"  
  
"Crash cart!"  
  
They began to work desperately hard on the patient who was slipping through their grasp.  
  
******  
  
Jeff had been standing by the doors of the operating theatre. He'd left the ward, unable to keep still in his seat.  
  
He'd paced back and forth in front of the double-doors. He was still uneasy about everything. The silence of the corridor was almost eerie.  
  
It had been almost an hour now. Dr Jackson had said he would try to complete the procedure as soon as possible, as it was dangerous for Virgil to be under a general anesthetic for too long, because of the risk of stroke.  
  
Jeff leant against the wall, waiting.  
  
*****  
  
"Any response?"  
  
"No pulse, doctor."  
  
"Try it again."  
  
"But Sir..."  
  
"TRY IT AGAIN!"  
  
The assistant didn't argue, but continued to work.  
  
****  
  
Josie Tracy stood on the balcony of her bedroom, overlooking the clear blue water. She couldn't settle to anything today.  
  
Her mind was on her two grandsons who were so far from her at that moment.  
  
As she turned to leave the room, her eyes fell on a piece of paper, it's corner poking out from under the bed.  
  
She tutted, and went over to pick it up. About to toss it in the waste bin, Josie just noticed the single word on the front.  
  
"Grandma."  
  
Curiously, Josie unfolded the page to its full size.  
  
Her eyes slowly scanned the page.  
  
She sat down on the edge of her bed, eyes filled with tears, some of which spilled down her cheeks.  
  
"Oh, Virgil. My poor little boy." She whispered.  
  
It was the first letter.  
  
******  
  
"So who's going to tell his father?"  
  
"It makes no difference. He had a lot of faith in us – I just wish it didn't have to be this way."  
  
"It could have been a lot worse, doctor."  
  
"I suppose it could. Tests will decipher the damage done."  
  
******  
  
Jeff shifted his weight from one foot to the other. As he leant on the wall, something in the pocket of his jacket crackled.  
  
Automatically, he pulled out a crumpled piece of paper.  
  
He looked at it.  
  
All it said was "Dad."  
  
Jeff read it through slowly – then again – and again. He raised a hand to his face and was rather astonished to find it wet.  
  
"Mr. Tracy?" a voice said from behind.  
  
Jeff rubbed a hand harshly across his face and turned to face the doctor.  
  
Dr Jackson looked at Jeff with eyes that showed a sadness that had not been there before.  
  
"Mr. Tracy. I'm afraid I have some bad news."  
  
___________________________________________________________________  
  
End Note: I hate me sometimes! I'm so cruel to those poor Tracy's! Chapter 13 is coming.... Drop us a review if you get the time! 


	13. Chapter 13 Twenty Four Hours Part C

Disclaimer: I do not own Thunderbirds. They are property of Gerry Anderson & Co, which is a great shame....  
  
Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews, guys! (plus the ones sent to me personally! ;-)  
  
So here is chapter 13 – where I nearly made myself cry! PLEASE REVIEW!!!!  
  
Fate  
  
By Suzi Roberts  
  
Chapter 13 – 24 Hours – Part C.  
  
Jeff shook with disbelief as the doctor gently explained what had happened.  
  
"He went into cardiac arrest," the doctor was saying. "He was also losing blood at a very intense rate."  
  
Cardiac arrest? Jeff thought. No. Not my son. A hemorrhage? No. This can't be happening.  
  
Dr Jackson paused a moment.  
  
"Would you like to see your other son?"  
  
Jeff nodded, unable to utter a word.  
  
******  
  
His eyes flickered open.  
  
The first thing he felt was the pain searing through him.  
  
He felt so tired.  
  
As the drugs began to send him back to his dreamless sleep, he thought of his brother.  
  
He turned to where his sibling should have lain.  
  
An empty bed.  
  
The tiredness immediately disappeared. He struggled to sit up.  
  
"No, Mr Tracy, please." Said the young nurse monitoring him. "You must lie still now."  
  
"Where's my brother?" he asked, his voice a mere croak.  
  
The nurse didn't answer. She looked anxiously at the door waiting for the doctor to arrive.  
  
The minutes ticked by, feeling like hours, every sixty seconds passing more and more slowly.  
  
The door finally opened, and a rather watery-eyed Jeff Tracy walked in.  
  
"Dad!"  
  
"Son." Jeff replied in a voice between relief and heartbreak, as he gathered Virgil carefully into his arms and they shared their first proper embrace for nearly ten years.  
  
"Dad, where's Scott?"  
  
Jeff looked into Virgil's eyes; and again he saw the beautiful brown eyes of Lucy, the mother who this particular Tracy son was so much like.  
  
Virgil's eyes suddenly widened.  
  
"He isn't....dead, is he Dad?"  
  
"No, Virgil, although he had a bit of a tough time in theater. He's in the I.C.U Department at the moment."  
  
"Conscious?"  
  
Jeff knew Virgil needed him to be honest; even if at that particular moment he wanted to lie – to both Virgil and himself.  
  
"No, son. I'm afraid he's in a coma."  
  
Virgil bit his lip to hold back his tears. Jeff pulled his son back towards him, trying to control his own feelings at the same time.  
  
"Now, son, don't get over-upset, not in this state," Jeff said, his voice cracking. "You know your brother will be just fine. Scott bounces back from anything, we know that."  
  
He could feel Virgil shaking even though his head was buried in his father's chest.  
  
They sprang apart as Dr Jackson walked in, though he also looked tired and upset.  
  
"Well, Virgil." he said in a near-normal tone, "You've done pretty well. There were no complications and you should be right as rain in a few weeks. We'll take you back to the ward now to get some rest."  
  
"No!" Virgil replied. "I have to see my brother!"  
  
"Virgil. You need complete bed rest for the next few days."  
  
"I don't care, doctor. Please. Let me see him. Just once."  
  
Dr Jackson didn't respond but went to the phone.  
  
"Hello? Yes, this is Dr Jackson. Can you send a couple of porters down for a Mr Virgil Tracy? Yes. He needs to go down to the I.U.C unit. His brother Scott Tracy is critical and Virgil is to be taken to see him. Yes, now, please. Thank you."  
  
"The porters will be here in a few minutes, Virgil." Dr Jackson said to the pale young man lying in the opposite bed.  
  
Dr Jackson turned and left, feeling as though he had lead caps on the toes of his shoes.  
  
*****  
  
Virgil stared through the glass in the I.U.C unit, watching the motionless figure of Scott Tracy on the bed.  
  
Virgil almost laughed. It was stupid!  
  
This couldn't have happened to Scott! Scott, the man who took control on all the rescues?  
  
Scott, the bravest of the Tracy children when their mother had died?  
  
Scott, the strongest and most fearless Tracy brother, the one who everyone looked up to?  
  
No, Virgil thought, it's not true. It's all a dream! I can't – won't – believe it, and I'll tell Scott all about it when I wake up. Yes, that's what'll happen, and Scott will laugh at me and call me a fool.  
  
Like the old days.  
  
Virgil looked again at his brother lying there, connected to a life-support machine, knowing full well this wasn't stupid, or a dream.  
  
It was a real-life nightmare.  
  
******  
  
After seeing Scott, Jeff had left Virgil alone to go out of the building and call the family on his cell phone.  
  
He'd got as far as punching in the number.  
  
Jeff's thumb hovered over the call button. He'd planned what he was going to say about three times.  
  
It was HOW to say it he couldn't manage.  
  
He suddenly hit the button on the spur of the moment. The phone only rang twice before it was answered by his mother.  
  
She said, "Hello, Jeff," at which he nearly burst into tears right there and then.  
  
"Hello, mother." He replied, his voice wavering as he fought with the lump in his throat.  
  
"Jeff? What's wrong, son?" Josie asked, her voice immediately full of concern. "How are the boys?"  
  
"Virgil's operation was a success, mother. He's going to be OK as far as we know."  
  
"Well that's good news! How about Scott?"  
  
There was a pause.  
  
"He's in a coma, Mom." The reply was short and quickly spoken as a sob escaped Jeff's throat.  
  
Josie heard it and knew how bad things must be.  
  
"Jeff," she said softly, "Calm down, son. D'you want me to get one of the boys to fly me over so you can get a rest?"  
  
"I'm not leaving, Mom," Jeff's voice immediately replied. "And I won't be leaving until my son wakes up."  
  
"How's Virgil taking all this?"  
  
"Not at all well, Mom. He completely blames himself."  
  
Josie shook her head. Virgil might be most like his mother but he had some of the Tracy ways, that was for sure.  
  
"Mom?" Jeff said quietly. "Will you get Alan to fly you over tomorrow?"  
  
Josie gave a half-smile to herself. That was Jeff's way of asking for her help.  
  
"Yes of course, son."  
  
"Tell him he's to return to base afterwards." Jeff said, a thought of International Rescue briefly crossing his mind.  
  
They said their goodbyes and disconnected the call.  
  
Josie sat back in the chair, the shock coursing through her.  
  
It was just like the call she'd had when Lucy died.  
  
*****  
  
The phone trilled in the dining room. Josie left the dinner that she was preparing and picked it up.  
  
All she could hear on the end of the line was a distant sobbing.  
  
Jeff had explained, through his tears, that she had another grandson. He went on to explain that Lucy had died during the final stages of the birth, due to losing so much blood.  
  
Josie had put the phone down in tears.  
  
In any other circumstance, she would have said, "A new life for an old."  
  
It was a saying that comforted her.  
  
But Lucy wasn't an old life.  
  
She'd just begun to live.  
  
********  
  
Virgil was so tired his eyes closed of their own accord. But they soon snapped open again as his mind filled with nightmares over what had happened in the operating theatre.  
  
Virgil knew the doctors weren't to blame.  
  
He blamed himself, although Jeff assured him it was in no way his fault.  
  
That wasn't how Virgil saw it.  
  
It was like this – HE was the one who'd needed a replacement kidney. It was because of HIM that Scott was having to endure this.  
  
It was his fault.  
  
Simple.  
  
___________________________________________________________________  
  
End Note: I really am cruel. Hope this chapter's OK! I enjoyed the hours I put into it, I really did. Chapter 14 coming soon.... 


	14. Chapter 14 One Emotion After Another

Disclaimer: Thunderbirds is not mine, and I make no money from my fics. They are for the pure enjoyment of other fans on the Net.  
  
Author's Note: Oh, thanks for the reviews, lovely people! It's really rewarding! Have any of you actually guessed I LOVE REVIEWS?????? :-)  
  
Enough of me and my mouth....here's chapter 14!  
  
Fate  
  
By Suzi Roberts  
  
Chapter 14 – One Emotion After Another  
  
The deep orange shades of the evening sun turned the tips of the clouds a rosy pink.  
  
On any other day it would have been a perfect sunset.  
  
Today, it seemed to Jeff Tracy, that there could be diamonds lining every cloud and he wouldn't care.  
  
All he wanted was for his sons to be home safely.  
  
He stood outside the hospital, puffing rather violently on a cigar, cursing himself.  
  
Why had he let the boys go through with this?  
  
Virgil had been doing fine before – they could have worked out some kind of routine.  
  
Then Jeff remembered the pain Virgil had been in after each dialysis session; could he really put Virgil through that every day for the next, what, forty, fifty years?  
  
No, he couldn't.  
  
It had been decided that Scott would donate a kidney to Virgil.  
  
They'd gone ahead with it today.  
  
Now Scott lay in a coma. Virgil was obviously stressed and in his current state of health, that wasn't good news.  
  
Jeff stamped out the cigar end, muttering angrily under his breath.  
  
He breathed in the cool air one more time before turning around and going back inside the hospital.  
  
******  
  
Virgil lay propped up on what felt like twenty pillows.  
  
He wasn't reading, or listening to the radio or sleeping. He was just lying there.  
  
Thinking.  
  
Dr Jackson had assured him he'd be able to see Scott when he wanted, as long as he got enough bed-rest during the hours between.  
  
So that was what Virgil was doing.  
  
Resting.  
  
And he was getting mighty sick of it, too.  
  
Each minute felt like an hour; each hour felt like a year.  
  
He looked at the clock and counted the hours left until he could regain his vigil at the window to Scott's room in Intensive Care.  
  
Two hours remained.  
  
*****  
  
They were changing his feeding tubes.  
  
He lay in the same perfectly still position, eyes closed, dark hair tousled.  
  
The nurses spoke quietly amongst themselves as he lay there, as if not to wake him from a somewhat peaceful sleep.  
  
A pretty young blonde nurse came in and checked the machinery.  
  
She looked at the young man lying on the bed briefly before returning to the small group of nurses outside.  
  
"Do you think he'll make it?" She asked in a low voice as she closed the door.  
  
"No-one knows, Sara." Another nurse replied. "The thing about comas is no- one can tell when someone will wake up – if they ever do."  
  
*****  
  
Virgil had fallen asleep for the first time since the operation. He was far from relaxed, and his sleep wasn't peaceful, but the tiredness had finally got the better of him.  
  
Jeff sat with him for a while in emotional agony, not able to grasp the fact that both his sons would be in such a critical condition.  
  
Virgil seemed to be getting on OK, but his state of health was still serious and he needed constant monitoring and care.  
  
Jeff watched as Virgil slept restlessly, pain shooting through him occasionally making him screw up his face as he slept.  
  
He knew Virgil was quite often overlooked in some respects; Scott often took the limelight from Virgil when it came to rescues. It wasn't done purposefully; sometimes it just happened.  
  
As children, Jeff had often paid Scott the most attention, especially when they'd entered their teens, although he'd tried his best to share himself equally between his sons.  
  
But Jeff did love Virgil every bit as much as Scott.  
  
He loved them both.  
  
He just wished he could tell them that.  
  
*****  
  
Tin-Tin sat on the sofa, tears burning in her eyes as she looked at the piece of paper in front of her.  
  
First she'd found this letter in her room.  
  
Then Josie had told her and the family about Scott.  
  
It was all too much to bear.  
  
Scott was in a coma, they'd been told.  
  
He was critical.  
  
It seemed unlikely to everyone that such a strong man could be in a state like that.  
  
Yet Tin-Tin knew how true it was when Josie had explained to her how upset Jeff was.  
  
Jeff Tracy was strong and would not get that upset over anything without extreme reason.  
  
Mind overcrowded with thoughts, Tin-Tin rose out of her seat and proceeded to look for Alan.  
  
That in itself was a fruitless effort.  
  
He'd left the Tracy Lounge after being told the news, along with Gordon, and Tin-Tin hadn't seen either of them since.  
  
Gordon had been very upset at the news, perhaps more than everyone else.  
  
"I keep thinking it could have been me in Scott's position," he'd told Tin- Tin a little later, "Then I feel angry at myself for thinking like that. It's so selfish; Scott's lying in a coma in the hospital, and all I can do is think about myself."  
  
She'd comforted him as best she could, and he'd finally gone out for a swim.  
  
Like he always did when he was stressed.  
  
She gave up after searching most of the Island, deciding that Alan obviously wanted to be alone for this one.  
  
Lonely, she walked over to Jeff's desk and called John, wondering if he'd been updated.  
  
"Why, hello, Tin-Tin. This is a nice surprise."  
  
Tin-Tin smiled sadly. No, it was obvious he hadn't.  
  
"Hi John. Listen, I've got some news about Scott and Virgil."  
  
John looked at her questioningly.  
  
"I'm afraid it isn't good news."  
  
John's face fell.  
  
"Is it Virgil? He's OK, isn't he?"  
  
"Well. As OK as you can be after an operation like that," Tin-Tin half- smiled. "No, John. I'm afraid it's Scott."  
  
John continued to look nervous.  
  
"What about Scott?" he asked, not really wanting to hear the reply.  
  
"He's...he's in a coma, John. Something happened in surgery...I don't know what, I just know he's critical."  
  
Tin-Tin bowed her head, tears threatening again.  
  
"Scott?" John whispered. "Scott?"  
  
Tin-Tin didn't reply, just nodded.  
  
"How's Dad?"  
  
Tin-Tin just shook her head.  
  
"OK, Tin-Tin. Thanks for letting me know." John gabbled, ending the call abruptly, leaving Tin-Tin alone once again in the uncomfortable silence of the house.  
  
*******  
  
Jeff sat by Scott's bedside, watching, willing him to wake up. He talked non-stop, in the hope that Scott might be able to hear him.  
  
He watched for signs that Scott might be about to awaken from his sleep.  
  
And when Jeff took his hand, he half-expected Scott to sit up and tell him not to be so soft.  
  
He didn't. He lay still, monitors bleeping alternately.  
  
"Come ON, Scott," Jeff willed him aloud. "Come on. Your brother's doing so well. He wants to thank you. Besides, we need you, remember?"  
  
Scott didn't move.  
  
"Scott!" Jeff said, louder. He squeezed his son's hand harder, in the hope he might be able to feel him, and perhaps somehow respond.  
  
Scott's hand remained limp.  
  
Jeff looked up at the clock on the wall. It said 11 pm now. He'd have to go back to Virgil soon.  
  
But for a while more Jeff sat, quietly holding the hand of his eldest son.  
  
___________________________________________________________________  
  
End Note: Hope this chapter wasn't too disappointing to anyone. I just thought it might be nice to find out how some of the characters were feeling during this difficult time.  
  
Chapter 15 up on Thursday... 


	15. Chapter 15 Saying Goodbye?

Disclaimer: Thunderbirds is not mine, and I make no money from my fics. They are for the pure enjoyment of other fans on the Net.  
  
Author's Note: Reviews, reviews, beautiful reviews! I love writing my Thunderbirds Fanfic and I'm glad others enjoy it too.  
  
Now here's chapter 15. The first chapter so far where I actually cried whilst reading over it. Here we go.  
  
Fate  
  
By Suzi Roberts  
  
Chapter 15 – Saying Goodbye...?  
  
Virgil sat by the bed of his brother, watching for any signs of movement.  
  
It had been THREE weeks now.  
  
THREE WEEKS, and Scott hadn't regained consciousness.  
  
Virgil was getting better every day.  
  
Scott's health didn't change.  
  
He didn't get better and he didn't get worse.  
  
Virgil would be discharged from the hospital in a couple of days.  
  
How long would Scott have to stay in there?  
  
*****  
  
Josie Tracy sat on the hard plastic chair near the entrance to the hospital.  
  
She'd been sitting with Scott and Virgil for most of that morning, but just for the last half-hour she'd come to stretch her legs and wait for Jeff to return.  
  
After much persuasion, he'd finally gone home to have a shower and change his clothes, assured that his mother would be at the hospital to let him know if anything happened to Scott.  
  
Now Josie sat there, waiting for his return.  
  
As she sat she thought about her two eldest grandsons.  
  
First she thought about Scott, the one who'd bravely risked his life so many times in the past and now for his brother – and this is how he was being paid for it.  
  
By being connected to what seemed like hundreds of tubes to feed him and give medication.  
  
By being stuck in a bed, unaware of anything that was going on.  
  
If Scott knew the pain it was causing the family he'd have been devastated.  
  
Then Josie thought about Virgil.  
  
The guilt he must be feeling was indescribable.  
  
She knew he'd been blaming himself from the start, as Jeff had told her during that dreadful phone call.  
  
Since he'd been able to get out of bed more, Virgil had spent as much time as he could with his brother, unable to leave his side.  
  
Virgil had been worried something like this might happen for a long time before the operation.  
  
He'd been reassured that everything would be fine.  
  
But he'd been right all along.  
  
Josie was distracted from her thoughts as her son walked through the doors of the building.  
  
******  
  
No-one said a word. They stood by Scott's bed in complete silence, all watching, as they had been for the last two weeks, for a sign of movement.  
  
The life support machine bleeped.  
  
Scott didn't move.  
  
They continued their vigil until the door opened and a young male consultant walked in.  
  
He looked at them with eyes full of sadness. The doctor knew that he shouldn't feel any emotion towards patients, but he'd watched this family each day as they'd sat at their loved ones' side.  
  
"I wonder," he began, very quietly, "If you'd like to come with me to my office. I have a matter I'd like to discuss with all of you."  
  
******  
  
Jeff and his mother sat on the two chairs in front of the doctor's desk. Virgil stood by the arm of his father's seat.  
  
The consultant swallowed and looked down at his file.  
  
"Mr Tracy," he said, addressing Jeff, "I'd think it would be wise if you called the rest of your family to the hospital to be with your son."  
  
He paused a moment.  
  
"If Scott was to regain consciousness, I'm afraid the chances of brain damage are extremely high."  
  
"What are the chances?" Jeff said, as clearly as he could manage.  
  
"There's an eighty-five percent chance, Mr Tracy."  
  
He didn't need to say more.  
  
Jeff held his head in his hands.  
  
"You will, of course, need time to discuss this with your family first, I understand," the doctor said slowly.  
  
Jeff nodded and followed Josie and Virgil blindly to the door.  
  
As they walked back into Scott's room, Josie turned to Virgil.  
  
"Sweetheart. Will you go and ring your brothers for Grandma?" she said, as though she was talking to a six-year old once again.  
  
Virgil nodded, glanced worriedly over at his father, and left.  
  
"Mom."  
  
Josie walked over to where her only son sat by her grandson's bedside, and lay a hand on his shaking shoulder.  
  
"Mom. Scott can't leave us. The boys need him. I need him!"  
  
Then he burst into tears and took Scott's hand, sobbing.  
  
Josie sat on the chair next to him and held him in her arms, on the verge of tears herself.  
  
"I know sweetheart. I need him too."  
  
******  
  
The little room was cramped and hot, but nobody cared.  
  
They were all here now.  
  
Here to be with Scott.  
  
Their faces were tear-stained and red as they stood watching their loved one.  
  
Even John had left the space satellite to be there.  
  
International Rescue didn't matter that day.  
  
They had each come into Scott's room with a mask of bravery on their faces, only to find their father sobbing in their grandmother's arms.  
  
A sight like that could break a heart of stone.  
  
They stood around the bed, just watching.  
  
"Please, son. Please, just wake up." Jeff kept whispering.  
  
It would be a miracle if Scott could bounce back and prove the doctors wrong.  
  
Jeff was praying and praying for that miracle.  
  
Scott lay as still as before, looking as though he was asleep.  
  
Everyone tried to kid themselves that's what he was.  
  
Asleep.  
  
Or THEY were asleep, and this was all a nightmare.  
  
Virgil sat the opposite side of Scott, holding his other hand.  
  
This is all my fault, Scott, he thought to himself, tears blinding him. I hope you can forgive me.  
  
The consultant walked into the crowded room carrying a clipboard and pen.  
  
Jeff looked at the two items like they were shotguns.  
  
The doctor could not bring himself to say a word to the poor man as he handed over the clipboard.  
  
Jeff read the sheet of paper and tears filled his eyes once again.  
  
There was no need to explain what the paper said.  
  
The others nodded.  
  
Scott wouldn't want to live like this.  
  
Jeff signed his name at the end of the page and the words swam in front of him.  
  
The doctor walked over to the life-support machine and placed a finger on the "OFF" switch.  
  
"Dad!" Virgil's cry suddenly halted the doctor in his tracks.  
  
Jeff looked up at Virgil through his tears, registering the look of shock on the younger man's face.  
  
"Dad!" Virgil repeated shakily. "Look! He – he's holding my hand!"  
  
Unable to quite believe it, Jeff stood up and look over Virgil's side of the bed.  
  
He stared as he saw that Virgil spoke the truth; Scott's long fingers were curled tightly around his younger brother's hand, squeezing until the tips of his fingers turned white.  
  
___________________________________________________________________  
  
End Note: (*sobbing*) Did you honestly think I'd kill Scott? I was actually going to end this chapter as the doctor had his finger on the OFF switch of the life-support machine, but even I thought that was too cruel a cliff- hanger!  
  
Chapter 16 coming on Sunday! 


	16. Chapter 16 Awake

Disclaimer: Thunderbirds is not mine, and I make no money from my fics. They are for the pure enjoyment of other fans on the Net.  
  
Author's Note: Chapter 16 is here, a little earlier than expected. Thanks for your encouragement, everyone! Hope I haven't kept you waiting too long for this chapter! Very emotional. Just a few chapters left now! Don't forget to review...please?  
  
Fate  
  
By Suzi Roberts  
  
Chapter 16 - Awake  
  
The doctor practically ran over from where he stood in the corner of the room and began checking over Scott.  
  
"Scott?" The doctor said, touching his free hand. "Scott, can you hear me? Squeeze my hand if you can hear me."  
  
The Tracy clan watched again as they saw Scott react to the doctor's command.  
  
"Right. Can we clear the area, please?" The doctor ordered.  
  
Everyone filed out, still in shock, except for Jeff and Virgil.  
  
"Virgil? Mr Tracy?" the doctor gestured towards the door. Jeff shook his head.  
  
"No, doctor," he said, firm but polite. "My son needs us here when he wakes up."  
  
"Very well."  
  
The doctor checked over Scott again and wrote briefly in his notes, before hurrying out of the room.  
  
Jeff and Virgil turned their attention back to Scott.  
  
******  
  
It was still fuzzy.  
  
Like waking up with an agonizing hangover.  
  
It'd been dark for what seemed like ages now.  
  
At one point he'd heard a voice in the distance – not his father's voice, or brother's voice, but it was a voice he knew.  
  
It was a female voice.  
  
The voice had disappeared as he heard his father and brother's voice speaking quietly amongst themselves.  
  
He'd tried to open his eyes.  
  
They hadn't reacted, even though he'd put all his concentration and willpower into them.  
  
Something told him he had to let everyone know he was still here.  
  
Alive.  
  
He couldn't allow himself to surrender.  
  
He'd heard his father's sobbing.  
  
He'd felt Virgil grasping his hand desperately, as if by some way of apology.  
  
He'd heard the doctor arrive.  
  
Something made him summon up all the willpower anyone could have and to squeeze his brother's hand as hard as possible.  
  
He'd done it again when the doctor asked, too.  
  
His head was becoming less and less fuzzy.  
  
The deep nothingness that had surrounded him for so long was lifting.  
  
Time began to have meaning again. He could hear a clock ticking in the background.  
  
He summoned up his willpower again.  
  
He willed his eyes to open as hard as he could.  
  
Then light in the darkness.  
  
*****  
  
"Scott!" Virgil swallowed a sob of joy as the older man's eyes flickered open.  
  
"Hello son." Jeff replied as the consultant walked aback into the room. Then he let out a sigh. "Oh, Scott. We nearly lost you."  
  
"Yeah, you gave us one hell of a scare, Scott."  
  
Scott spluttered a little as the doctor gently eased the tube from his throat.  
  
"There you are, Mr Tracy," the doctor smiled, not saying anything else as he left the room, knowing the family needed to be alone for this moment.  
  
Scott, after swallowing painfully a few times slowly turned his head to the side and looked his younger brother up and down.  
  
"Virg? You're looking well."  
  
"Well, it's been a while, Scott." Virgil replied quietly.  
  
"H-how long have I been here?" Scott asked weakly.  
  
"Just over three weeks," Jeff replied.  
  
It took Scott a few moments to let this new information sink in.  
  
Three weeks?  
  
He'd been out for three weeks?  
  
"Scott?" Jeff's voice interrupted his thoughts. Scott looked at his father. "What was it that brought you round?"  
  
"I-I could hear you and Virg." Scott stammered slowly. "I could hear you talking. I couldn't understand what you were saying, but something told me I had to let you know I was still here."  
  
Scott's eyes were closing of their own accord now.  
  
"We'll see you later, son," he heard his father say. "We know you're tired."  
  
Scott fell into a peaceful sleep.  
  
*****  
  
They emerged from the small side room and headed for the corridor, where the family stood quietly, talking amongst themselves. They looked up at Jeff and Virgil.  
  
"He's awake."  
  
The news brought a smile to everyone's face for the first time in days.  
  
"I don't know about physical damage," Jeff continued, "but his mind's in full working order."  
  
Everyone breathed a final sigh of relief.  
  
*****  
  
Scott could feel himself waking up again.  
  
This time, more alert, more lively. The headache seemed to have vanished.  
  
The only thing that hurt him was the scar from the operation.  
  
He lay still for a few moments, enjoying the just-woken-up feeling. He carefully stretched his arms that were aching after such a long time in the same position.  
  
As he tried to stretch his legs, he stopped dead.  
  
They wouldn't move.  
  
He tried to move his toes.  
  
They wouldn't move either.  
  
And worse than that – he couldn't feel them.  
  
*****  
  
Jeff walked into the room, accompanied by the rest of the family.  
  
There was no discomfort during the visit. They laughed and joked, Scott even trying to join in at times. There was lots of chat, and a happy atmosphere hung in the air.  
  
But Scott's main focus was to get his father by himself.  
  
When at last Jeff said, "Well, we'd better make a move." Scott couldn't help but be a little relieved. He'd been happy to see his family and grateful for their company – but he needed to be alone with his father.  
  
Jeff was about to leave now.  
  
"Dad?" Scott said, in a voice barely audible. "can I talk to you for a second?"  
  
"Sure son. What's on your mind?"  
  
"Dad," Scott began again, biting his lip to stop himself crying. He took his father's hand and looked into his worried eyes.  
  
"It's probably nothing, really...but...it's my legs."  
  
"What about them, Scott?"  
  
"I can't feel them."  
  
___________________________________________________________________  
  
End Note: I'm so mean it indescribable. Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Chapter 17 coming as soon as possible! 


	17. Chapter 17 Recovery

Disclaimer: Thunderbirds is not mine, and I make no money from my fics. They are for the pure enjoyment of other fans on the Net.  
  
Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews – and Jules? I went back and edited Chapter 16, as you suggested. Nice one.  
  
Chapter 17 is here!  
  
Fate  
  
By Suzi Roberts  
  
Chapter 17 – Recovery  
  
Scott glared irritably at that wretched clock that hung on the wall. He'd looked at it so many times he felt the numbers should have faded out of sight.  
  
Jeff had been concerned at the news Scott had delivered to him the week before, and had alerted the consultant.  
  
He had explained that the paralysis could be temporary or permanent, but the chances were high that it was only a temporary complication. A physiotherapist had been called immediately.  
  
That was who Scott was waiting for now. He was impatient and wanted to up and out of bed as soon as possible. That was also the main priority of the physiotherapist.  
  
It had been decided that she would spend two hours a day working with Scott – and hour in the morning and an hour at night.  
  
Right now it was ten minutes to her arrival.  
  
Scott put his back on the pillow and gazed at the ceiling. It was funny, he thought to himself, how time could fly when you needed it to slow down, and how slow it ticked round the clock when you wanted it to be fast.  
  
He slowly sat up as he heard the click of the door.  
  
"Hello, Scott," smiled the physiotherapist. "How're you feelin' today?"  
  
"Alright, Megan." He replied to the cheerful looking woman in front of him.  
  
"Well perhaps tomorrow we'll see if we can get you to walk a few steps, eh?"  
  
Scott's handsome features lit up at the thought. Well, it'd be something to do, even if it would be a challenge, walking on legs you couldn't feel.  
  
They were working through their exercises, when Scott squirmed.  
  
"Scott? What is it?" Megan asked, concern on her face.  
  
"When you did... that," he replied, gesturing to the area they'd been exercising on his right leg, "I could feel you."  
  
She looked surprised and repeated her action.  
  
"Can you still feel it?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
Megan took out her notes and wrote it down carefully. Then she smiled.  
  
"Well that good news, Scott. You might make a full recovery yet,"  
  
Scott grinned at her.  
  
"Are you goin' to tell your dad?"  
  
Scott opened his mouth to reply, "of course", but then he stopped.  
  
"No," he replied, grinning wickedly at Megan's questioning look. "I think I'd like to wait until I can show my father what I can do."  
  
Megan returned his wicked grin and waved as she left the room.  
  
*****  
  
They were home.  
  
After all this time of worrying, sitting around in hospitals, just WAITING – things were beginning to look up.  
  
Virgil had gone from strength to strength and was healing well. His treatment had been changed so he an insulin pump instead of shots, which saved him time and aggravation.  
  
He'd been discharged from the hospital a few days earlier. Despite becoming easily tired, he'd been doing great.  
  
Scott was awake and had defeated the doctor's predictions.  
  
He was not fully recovered. He was still in the hospital and unable to walk, but intense physiotherapy had begun immediately and he'd been moved from I.C.U to a regular ward. Jeff no longer needed to stay at the hospital, he'd returned home under protest, but had promised to visit every day.  
  
According to the call Jeff had received from the hospital earlier that morning, Scott was making astounding progress and was likely to fully recover within just two weeks.  
  
It had been lucky, during this time, that International Rescue had been on a quiet period. There'd been a single rescue during the three leaders' absence; one which was luckily a water rescue and, as Gordon and Alan had both been present, had not needed any help with. In fact, for the first time in three months, the Tracy's lives were looking up.  
  
*****  
  
Today was the day.  
  
No more laying around in bed.  
  
Today was the day, Scott Tracy had decided, that he would most definitely walk the length of the short ward corridor if it killed him.  
  
Megan arrived an hour earlier after changing her schedules so that Scott didn't have to wait as long.  
  
Behind her she dragged a walking frame.  
  
Scott didn't look amused.  
  
"You don't expect me to use THAT, do you?" he scrunched up his face in disgust.  
  
"Well, if you wanna walk today, you're gonna HAVE to damn well use it!" Megan chuckled. "Come on – it's just to help you get started. You're too impatient, Scott."  
  
Scott took the handles on each side of the frame and slowly tried to haul himself up. As he brought himself to his feet his legs buckled a little.  
  
"Whoa, there." Megan said, supporting him. "OK, try it again."  
  
Leaning heavily on the frame, Scott pulled himself upright. His legs still felt numb...but not completely. They were tingling as he stood there shakily.  
  
"There you go! You're standing!" Megan praised. "And don't even think about complaining over that walkin' frame!" she added as Scott's eyes drifted downwards.  
  
Scott stood there for a few minutes, trying to "find his feet."  
  
"Wanna try a little walk, then?" Megan encouraged gently.  
  
Despite his protests at having to use it, Scott leant heavily on the frame as he shakily put one foot very slowly in front of the other. He took five steps to the other side of the room and the five steps back again.  
  
"Well done, Scott!" she grinned as he sank back onto the bed. "How do you feel now?"  
  
"I'll feel a lot better when that thing's gone!" he joked, pointing at the frame. Megan shook her head and tutted.  
  
"Well, I'll be back this evening."  
  
"Oh, err...Megan?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Thanks."  
  
"That's OK Scott. My pleasure."  
  
"Megan?"  
  
"Y-e-e-e-e-s?"  
  
"I don't suppose you could come a little earlier, could you? I mean, so you can help me." Scott blushed a little. "I want to walk out and greet my dad when he gets here."  
  
Megan pretended to be cross.  
  
"Well, you sure have a cheek, Scott Tracy. I'll see what I can do."  
  
"Oh, thanks, Megan. You're a star."  
  
"Don't try sweet talkin' me, you!" she added as she left his side-room.  
  
*********  
  
Jeff walked up the long corridor, not hating the sight of it as much as he had the last few weeks.  
  
Well, it had been the first time he'd walked up it to finally receive some good news.  
  
He strolled along at a rather leisurely pace, knowing he was little early for visiting times.  
  
He finally reached the ward just as the doors were opening.  
  
*****  
  
"OK, Scott," Megan said, looking through the window of his room that led onto the corridor.  
  
Scott waited nervously in front of the door.  
  
"Ready?" Megan asked, watching him.  
  
"As I'll ever be," he grinned back.  
  
"Do you want to me to help you from behind or can you do it on your own?"  
  
Scott chuckled.  
  
"You have no idea how wrong that sounds," he grinned at her exasperated expression. "it's OK – I think I'll go it alone."  
  
"Well, you be careful."  
  
Scott hobbled out slowly on the frame, just in time to see his father coming in the opposite direction.  
  
Jeff stopped dead when he saw his son in front of him.  
  
"Hi, Dad! How are you?"  
  
It had been a long time, but Jeff could finally say he'd been rendered speechless.  
  
"Scott..." Jeff showed his praise and approval with a pat on the shoulder. "You're doing very well."  
  
That was enough for Scott, and he walked slowly back to his room, accompanied by his father.  
  
"You did it, Scott!" Megan smiled, perhaps more excited about his achievement than he was.  
  
"Yeah, well it's all thanks to you, Megan."  
  
"Trash." She smiled back. "You did that all by yourself Scott Tracy and you know it."  
  
Glancing at the clock, she extended a hand to Jeff.  
  
"Megan Parsons, Mr Tracy, Scott's physiotherapist. I'm sorry I can't stay longer but I have another appointment. You've got one hell of a determined son, there, Sir."  
  
"Miss Parsons, on behalf of myself and my family, we can't thank you enough. Scott wouldn't be where he is right now without you and we're all grateful for that."  
  
Megan blushed.  
  
"Oh, Mr Tracy, I wouldn't say that," she replied, patting his hand with her own. "It's Scott who's done all the real work. Now I'm afraid I must be going. I'll see you again tomorrow, Scott. Bye, Mr Tracy."  
  
Jeff watched her leave the room.  
  
"Very pleasant young lady," Jeff commented.  
  
"Yeah. Yeah, she is very nice." Scott replied vaguely.  
  
"You're doing very well, son. I'm very pleased with the progress you've made."  
  
"Well I can't wait to walk properly so I can get back to you-know-what," Scott grinned.  
  
"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it, son. Right now, you finish getting yourself fixed up."  
  
*****  
  
"OK," Megan fixed her blue-eyed gaze on Scott. "Today we're putting that thing..." she gestured towards the walking frame, "...away."  
  
Scott had never felt more pleased.  
  
He got to his feet with ease. Then he and Megan walked up and down the ward corridor, slowly, but surely – Scott was walking unaided.  
  
"How do your legs feel, Scott?" she asked.  
  
"I can feel them again now, apart from around the ankles. It's still a bit funny there."  
  
"Well. I expect that'll heal itself in time. Can't run before you can walk."  
  
Scott returned his concentration back to walking.  
  
"Do you think I'll be in here much longer?" he asked.  
  
"Shouldn't think so, Scott. Another week, very tops. I should say they'll let you out Thursday. Maybe even tomorrow?"  
  
Scott grinned at the thought, though he didn't reply.  
  
*****  
  
He sat on the edge of his bed, fully-clothed for the first time in weeks.  
  
Jeff would be here to collect him at 1.00pm.  
  
12.30 pm.  
  
Dr Jackson returned for Scott's final full check-up.  
  
"We are, once again, truly sorry for what happened to you under our care, Mr Tracy."  
  
"No worries Doctor. It wasn't your fault, really. It was just bad luck."  
  
"We're very glad to see you've made a full recovery, Mr Tracy. All the best."  
  
"Same to you, doctor."  
  
12.45pm.  
  
Scott sat on the edge of the bed, staring out the window.  
  
"Scott?"  
  
He heard a familiar voice behind him.  
  
Megan came into the centre of the room and sat down next to him on the bed.  
  
"Megan," Scott began. "I want to thank you for everything you've done. If it weren't for you, I don't know where I'd be right now."  
  
"That's alright, Mushy." She grinned back.  
  
"Megan, I'm serious. I mean it."  
  
"Well Scott, I accept your thanks."  
  
She reached out to give him a handshake.  
  
Scott took her extended hand and kissed it.  
  
___________________________________________________________________  
  
End Note: Sorry guys! Didn't think that chapter was ever going to end! I enjoyed writing this one. It was much more light-hearted and I do like a little happiness for the long suffering Gerry Anderson creations. Chapter 18 – Home Sweet Home Coming soon. 


	18. Chapter 18 Home Sweet Home

Disclaimer: Thunderbirds is not mine, and I make no money from my fics. They are for the pure enjoyment of other fans on the Net.  
  
Authors Note: A very short chappie to go with the epilogue. Plz R&R!  
  
Fate  
  
By Suzi Roberts  
  
Chapter 18 – Home Sweet Home  
  
Scott had never felt so exhilarated to feel a 'plane lift into the air.  
  
He closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of soaring into the sky, even if he wasn't piloting the high speed mini-jet.  
  
"Looking forward to getting home, son?" Jeff asked with a sideways grin.  
  
"I never thought I'd look forward to going home so much."  
  
"Oh, I hope you'll still be saying that when Gordon and Alan don't give you any peace."  
  
Scott chuckled and relaxed.  
  
Right now he could deal with a whole hoard of little brothers and he wouldn't care.  
  
*****  
  
"It is good to see you again, Mr. Scott."  
  
"Thanks Kyrano. I'm sure looking forward to some of yours and Grandma's kitchen creations. New hospital food isn't all it's cracked up to be."  
  
"Oh, yes, Mr. Scott. You will eat well tonight."  
  
Scott and Kyrano went their separate ways, and Scott walked slowly over to his chair and sank into it, enjoying the last few minutes of silence he was going to get before a crowd of brothers surrounded him.  
  
"Hey, Scott!" chorused the voices of Alan, Tin-Tin and Gordon. Scott rolled his eyes. Ah, things were getting back to normal already! When those three were around, all peace and quiet went...VAMOOSH!  
  
Scott greeted them both with a cheery grin and they began conversing.  
  
When they'd finally left and peace had returned to the Tracy Lounge, Scott had pulled himself out of the chair and proceeded to look for the one person he hadn't seen yet – Virgil.  
  
He was sitting, half-asleep, under a sunshade by the pool. His eyes snapped open fully at the sight of Scott.  
  
"Scott! How are you?"  
  
"Oh, I'm doing OK, Virg. How about you? Everything going well?"  
  
"Oh, fine Scott."  
  
"Have you been keeping an eyes on the other three while I've been gone?"  
  
Virgil grinned.  
  
"Well, I've done my best."  
  
"Why are you still out here, Virg? Everyone's gone in for dinner. Come on. Don't forget I haven't had any of Grandma's cooking for ages now!"  
  
Scott began to walk slowly, but was caught by Virgil.  
  
"Scott....Thanks. For everything."  
  
The older man smiled at his brother.  
  
"Anytime, bro. Anytime."  
  
___________________________________________________________________  
  
End Note: On to the Epilogue! 


	19. Epilogue

Disclaimer: Thunderbirds is not mine, and I make no money from my fics. They are for the pure enjoyment of other fans on the Net.  
  
Authors Note: Well, this is it, folks! The Epilogue. May I beg you one last time to please review?  
  
Fate  
  
By Suzi Roberts  
  
EPILOGUE  
  
The golden hue of the sunset streaked across the sky, shining down onto the pure white sand of the island.  
  
Scott walked at a leisurely pace along the beach.  
  
He could walk properly now.  
  
Sometimes Virgil joined him on these walks but tonight he had some music to finish writing, so Scott walked alone.  
  
It was peaceful with no sound for miles, apart from the music of the waves lapping against the rocks that lined the coast of the island.  
  
Over the last two weeks since his arrival home, he'd been begging to get back to his job as an International Rescue Lifesaver.  
  
He'd been turned down until now. But Jeff had promised him the next rescue, as long it wasn't too strenuous.  
  
He turned his face towards the sun and enjoyed it's warmth on his face.  
  
Scott enjoyed these walks and went for them everyday, still making sure he kept his muscles strong.  
  
After all, he was a member of International Rescue.  
  
And he – and Virgil – were back in business.  
  
___________________________________________________________________  
  
Final Note: Well, friends, my tale is told. Thanks to every single person who took the time to review my work, plus the people who sent me personal reviews. Special thanks to all the people for their tips, suggestions and ideas for my story. Many of them have been useful. Thanks also to Jules, Becca T and mcj for their constant reviews and encouragement.  
  
I have another fic in the works, which I will hopefully upload in a few weeks, so look out for me.  
  
Suzi xxx 


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